Crushed Velvet
by Tirya King
Summary: Sequel to 'Say Goodnight Not Goodbye Harry struggles to move on from last summer. However, visions and feelings of darkness make him feel he has no one to turn to. When he is accused of a murder he can't remember, he must struggle to surive on his own.
1. Through Him, With Him, In Him

Title:  Crushed Velvet

By:  Tirya King Email:  Tirya56@hotmail.com Category:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Adventure Rating:  PG-13 Spoilers:  Not really unless you haven't read the books yet. Feedback:  Of course! Archive:  As long as you tell me where it's going, you may put it where you wish! Time Frame: Starts in the beginning of Harry's 5th year. 

Summary:  Harry struggles to move on from his last summer.  But when his nightmares only increase and the feeling of darkness is stronger, he doesn't know where to turn.  Then he is accused of 1st degree murder and he finds himself totally alone, bereft even of his friends and family.  How can he prove his innocence when he can't even remember what happened?  Is he even innocent?

Disclaimer:  JK Rowling owns the books, I own Javen Derios.  Suing me is rather pointless since all you'll get is some lint and a piece of mint gum.

Author Notes:  This story is a sequel to my fic called 'Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye'.  I suggest that you read that one first or you will be terribly confused.  Still don't want to read it? Fine, here's the extremely watered down version.  Sirius is pardoned and Harry is living with him.  A 'friend' of Sirius', Javen Derios, faked Sirius' and Harry's deaths so he could have Harry to complete his revenge on those who had hurt him.  He ended up abusing Harry and Sirius came to his rescue.  Harry accidentally killed Javen and another man.  Harry and Javen had performed a spell that would link their minds and Javen used it to help control Harry's actions and thoughts.  When one dies, the link will threaten the other's life.  That becomes important in this.  There ya go!  78 pages in 6 sentences.  I'm good! ^_^

//…// means memories, flashbacks, or dreams.

/…/ are thoughts

Part 1: Through Him, With Him, In Him

_//Sirius let out a harsh gasp for air as Javen kicked him fiercely in the side.  The wind was temporarily knocked out of him and he could do little more than struggle to breath on all fours.  Javen kicked him once more for emphasis and raised his wand against him like he had with Harry only minutes before.  Only this time, it was Sirius' life he sought to take.  "We'll all die here," he smiled, "But perhaps you first."_

_Harry struggled to get to his feet to save his fallen godfather, but the days of abuse had taken his toll on him and he found he could not.  Sirius met his eyes for an instant, his sapphire eyes usually so full of life beginning to dim.  He knew what awaited him at the tip of Javen's wand._

_'I'm sorry,' his eyes pleaded with Harry, 'I'm sorry for not being sooner.  I'm sorry I failed you.  I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me.  I love you.'_

_Javen murmured the words to end Sirius' life.  And this time, Harry could not move to him in time.  He was pinned down by the fallen boulders, screaming for his godfather as the Avada Kedavra was spoken._

_"Harry," Sirius gasped, reaching for him, "Harry, please…"_

_"Harry …wake up…please wake up…Harry…"//_

"Harry! Wake up!  Please Harry!"

Harry awoke with a jerk, sitting upright as soon as he opened his eyes.  "Sirius!" he rasped, reaching out blindly.  Strong arms stopped him, mid reach and held him still.

"Blimey, Harry!  Calm down, will you!"  Ron struggled to stop his friend's frantic movements, "Oh, come on now, really!"

Slowly, Harry calmed down enough to take in his surroundings.  He was aware of Ron pinning him down with his superior weight and the bed sheets effectively wrapped up around him to make much movement near impossible.  He groaned, reaching up to feel his scar, which ached uncontrollably.

"Ron?" he murmured, "What happened?"

Ron sighed and got off his friend, sure that he was once again with the awake and sane.  "What happened!?  You took just about 5 years off my life, that's what happened!"  He grew calmer and his gaze became gentle.  "You dreamt about it again, didn't you?  You dreamt about Javen and Sirius.  I heard you calling out."

Harry shook his head to clear the nightmare from his mind.  "I'm sorry, Ron," he mumbled, embarrassed, "I didn't mean to wake you up again."

"It's alright. It was time to get up anyway."  Ron leaned over to Harry's nightstand and handed his friend his glasses so the world wouldn't seem so confusing and blurry.  "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked timidly, knowing how much the memories still haunted him.

Harry sighed, not meeting his friend's gaze, "It's the same that it's always been.  Back in the cave with Sirius and Javen.  Only I couldn't reach Sirius in time.  Javen…he killed him.  I wasn't fast enough…" his voice dropped down to a whisper as the details of the dream came back to him.  It was so real…

"Hey, listen," Ron insisted, determined not to let his friend go back into that depression that they had pulled him from during the rest of the summer, "It was just a dream, alright?  Javen is gone.  You saved Sirius.  He is fine.  You were fast enough."

"I-I know.  But it was so real.  It's like…Javen never really left."

"He's dead, Harry.  He's never coming back.  End of story."  Ron's voice was filled with such conviction that he was forced to believe him.  Harry smiled up at him.

"Thanks, Ron.  You've been a great help lately.  I'm sorry I keep waking you up."

"Yeah, well," Ron's ears turned pink at the gratitude, "Without you to stress over, what am I going to do with my life?  Besides, I promised Sirius that I'd keep you out of trouble."

Harry groaned.  If Sirius ever got word of his dreams, he would want to make sure that Harry was looked over by Madam Pomfrey as well as half a dozen doctors from St. Mungo's.  Since the incident with Javen over the summer Sirius was becoming even more protective of Harry than ever before.  It was time that Harry took responsibility for himself.  It was just a few nightmares.  He had to pull himself together.  He was 15 after all.

"Are you going to tell him?" asked Ron, voicing Harry's own thoughts.  Harry shook his head quickly.

"No.  Like you said, it's only a dream.  I don't want him worried for nothing.  Besides, he's too busy with the war right now."  Ron looked doubtful, but said nothing.  

Their other roommates had managed to stay asleep during Harry's nightmare and woke up about 15 minutes later.  Getting ready for classes was a silent affair since Harry was still contemplating his dream, and the others were too tired to worry about talking.  

It was about 2 weeks into school and Harry was finding that schoolwork, even the dreaded Potions classes, helped keep his mind off of the happenings of the previous summer when his life had nearly been ruined, if not ended.  For the most part, it worked.  Javen was becoming a distant memory in his mind that only served to remind him of his vulnerability.  But Javen was gone now.  Gone forever.  All he had to worry about now was the growing threat of Voldemort as he gained power across Britain.  That and his grades.  But he knew he was safe here.  No one could hurt him as long as he was in Hogwarts within Dumbledore's protection.  But what about Sirius?  How was he safe?

"Good morning, Ron.  Good morning Harry," Hermione greeted as they made their way down to breakfast.

"Morning, Hermione," Harry answered automatically like he did every morning.  He saw his two friends share a glance and he knew what they were thinking.  But they would wait until he was out of earshot before talking about it.  He knew what their conversation would be about.  Poor Harry.  How is he getting along?  Is he still having nightmares?  Does he still blame himself for those deaths?  What can we do to help?

Harry sighed.  He was fine, really.  Sure he was a little more subdued; but after what had happened to him that summer, who wouldn't be?  It was just a few nightmares.  He was fine.  Really he was…

His gaze turned to a young first year boy sitting next to Neville.  His light brown hair fell over two brilliantly blue eyes.  The 11 year old was tall for his age and his eyes, so eerie in their stare, indicated a hard life.  A life where he had seen too much too young.  But it wasn't the child's eyes that had disturbed Harry since returning to Hogwarts.  Nor was it the fact that when he looked at you, you would think he was seeing your very soul.  No, what was strange about the boy was his name.  Non-important to most of the students.  But an important name to one.  For, you see, the boy's name was Derios.  Robert Derios.

"Harry, Harry are you paying attention?" 

"Huh?"  Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione who were both giving him odd looks.

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione sighed with fake reproach.  "How do you expect to pass your classes if you don't pay attention?"

"What is it?" he asked, ignoring the friendly jibe.

"Hedwig has a note for you," Ron supplied.  Harry looked down to his snowy owl who was looking back at him impatiently.  She appeared as though she had been waiting for a while.

"Oh, sorry, Hedwig," he apologized.  She hooted at him in disapproval and stuck out her leg, offering her letter.  He took it and watched as she flew away to the owlery.

"It's from Sirius," he explained, recognizing the handwriting.  "It says, 'Dear Harry, I hope you are feeling well and that your nightmares have stopped. /Well, he got one out of two/ I have been called by Dumbledore to perform a duty in America.  It seems that the war is beginning to spread to the witches in the U.S. and I am needed specifically to help contain it.  Unfortunately, I cannot have any contact with you as it may jeopardize your safety.  Do not worry about me.  I should be home for Christmas.  Keep up your studies and don't forget to see Dumbledore if you ever feel the need.  Tell Hermione and Ron I said hi.  With all my love, Sirius.'"

"Wow," breathed Ron, "He's going to America?  That is bloody awesome.  Bill got to go there last year on vacation."

"Ron," Hermione said, shooting him a look, "He's not going there on vacation.  It's going to be a very dangerous mission for Dumbledore."

"I know," Ron retorted, "But still.  It's America.  Land of the free and all that.  I'll bet he gets to fight loads of Death Ea…" he stopped, seeing the look on Harry's face.  "Aw, don't worry about it, Harry.  I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Ron's right, Harry," Hermione said soothingly, "Sirius can take care of himself.  He'll be fine.  Dumbledore wouldn't send him if he didn't think he could do it."

The boy nodded absently.  Of course Sirius could take care of himself.  He was the only man who ever escaped Azkaban alive after all.  That stood for something.  It was selfish of him to try to keep Sirius from performing his duties.  He had been alone for nearly 11 years of his life so he shouldn't whine about a few more months.  But then, why did it feel like he would be alone for so much longer than a few months?

/You won't be alone, you dolt/ he scolded himself.  /You still have Ron and Hermione and Remus.  You'll never be alone again.  Sirius promised you that when he took you home from the hospital./  He shook off his worries as paranoia and still shaken nerves courtesy of Javen Derios.

The rest of breakfast, Harry tried to make small talk with his friends without bringing up the war.  He noticed more and more often that that was the case among many of his classmates.  The coming war was affecting everyone despite what the Ministry or their denying parents said.  They could feel the growing darkness and fear like they could feel owls' wings as they swooped by.

When the time came to leave for the first class, Harry felt himself unconsciously leaving his friends' sides and head toward the young first year.  He could no longer hold off his curiosity; he needed to know.  But he hadn't a clue where to start.  The boy started for him.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" Robert asked seeing Harry at a sudden loss for words.  His voice was calm and composed, not like the other first years that had heard of him from their parents and books.

"Y-yeah, yeah I am," Harry said. /Come off it, Potter.  He's just a first year.  Don't get so clammy.  Speak up!/  "And you're Robert Derios, right?"

The boy nodded and they walked up the stairs together.  As it so happened, Robert's Transfiguration class was on the way to Harry's Double Divination.

"I was wondering, Robert…"

"Call me Rob," the boy requested as he made a face, "Robert makes me sound old."

"Sure.  Anyway Rob, I was wondering if…if you'd heard of a Javen Derios?  Is he a relative of yours?"  Harry let out a small breath of air.  There, he'd done it.  He'd asked.  One would think that it would be so easy to ask such a simple question after all he'd been through.  Unfortunately, his experience had the opposite effect on him and he feared the answer.

Rob took a while in answering, his bright blue eyes lowered to the floor as they walked.  For a moment, Harry thought he wouldn't answer and regretted ever asking.  Then, Rob turned to Harry.

"How do you know my father?"

Harry's breath hitched in his throat unexpectedly.  Javen had a son?  Oh God…

"Father?" Harry whispered without meaning to, "He was your father?"

"That's what I said," Rob answered harshly.  His gaze lowered again, "Sorry.  I didn't mean to snap at you.  It's just…what happened…it was just so sudden.  No one expected anything like that to happen."

"How did you…"

"My mother told me."

Harry didn't know why this news seemed to shock him so.  Why he should feel so sick that the boy before him was the son of the man who had abused and tried to turn him to the Dark Arts?  Rob looked as though he wanted to say more, but then the bell rang, calling him to class.  He looked back at the door to his classroom and then back at Harry regretfully.

"Listen, I can't talk now.  Can you meet me after dinner in the Common Room?  But not today…in a week?  Next Hogsmeade weekend?"

Harry found himself nodding, still trying to process what was happening.  The boy flashed him a grin and ran off to where Professor McGonagall was waiting impatiently.  Numbly, he put one foot in front of the other as he made his way to Divination where no doubt Trelawney and, more importantly, Ron were noting his absence.  He did not need to give anyone any more cause to worry about him.  If Sirius heard what was going on with his godson he would feel he had let Harry return to school too quickly.  He might return from his mission to pull Harry from school.  He couldn't let that happen.  One person, especially him, was not worth the freedom of countless wizards and muggles.

When he arrived at his classroom, everyone was already at work.  Apparently, the lesson for the day included more of those dreaded crystal balls.  His entrance did not go unnoticed however.  Thankfully, the Professor spared him one of her dire predictions, but would not bless him with total neglect.

"Where have you been, young man?" she asked a bit coolly.  He guessed she was still a little cross with him for not dying like she had predicted him to a thousand times.  The nerve of some of her students…

"I…I had to talk to someone.  Sorry I'm late," he finished lamely.  She did not buy it, nor did he expect her to.  However, she didn't bother to question him further.

"Very well.  5 points from Gryffindor for your lateness.  Now get to your seat."  He moved to where Ron was sitting, but she stopped him midway, her bug-like eyes narrowing.  "Not there.  I feel that you two together have a detrimental effect on the Inner Eyes of this room.  Sit over there by Miss Patil."

Grudgingly he did as he was told and found himself sitting across from one of Trelawney's protégés.  Parvati looked at him with big watery eyes.  She must have adopted that piteous look from their Professor who nearly always looked at Harry with a mournful gaze.

He just barely stopped himself from snapping at her to stop the act.  He had enough of it from Trelawney and he didn't need it from her.  She seemed to get the idea from the glint in his eyes, for she returned to work and didn't acknowledge him for the rest of class.  He looked over at Ron and saw that he was stuck with Lavender for the class.  So at least Harry wasn't the only one having a 'serious' class for once.  Ron looked just as 'amused' as Harry as well.  Harry was slightly comforted by this for a moment.  Misery, after all, loved company.

He sighed and tried to make it look like he was actually working when he was really just daydreaming into the crystal ball.  His mind felt like the ball right then.  Cloudy and obscure.  So many things were running through it, he couldn't make any sense of it.

//_The stone angel lay shattered at Harry's feet.  He fell to his knees as a new explosion ripped through the house, shaking the very foundations.  He could feel the darkness swirling around him as the Death Eaters drew near.  Through dusty eyes he could see Sirius standing over him, his wand drawn and his eyes flashing dangerously.  Only he wasn't facing the Death Eaters like before.  He was turned to Harry!_

_"You betrayed me," he hissed, "All I wanted was to make you happy.  Look what you've done!  You've destroyed it all!"_

_"Sirius…dad no!" Harry cried, huddled in the corner where he had backed away.  His hand felt feebly behind him as he backed away from Sirius.  A shard of the stone angel sliced into his hand, but he didn't notice.  He was too focused on Sirius who was slowly advancing on him._

_"Don't you ever call me that again," Sirius seethed, his wand shaking as he pointed it at the boy.  "Traitor!"_

_"Dad!"  Harry cried out, his hands clumsily shielding his face.//_

The next thing he was aware of was the feel of the soft carpet of Trelawney's room.  Voices were muffled, but he could hear the frightened yells of Ron and Neville calling to him.  Everything was a blur until the Professor maintained order.

"Back away all of you!" she cried, pushing the students away from him, "Mr. Weasley, now!"

Harry tried to focus his blurry eyes on anything, but found it difficult.  He then realized that his glasses were nowhere near him.  In fact, he was nowhere near anything recognizable.  His seat was at least 10 feet away from where he was then.  He had somehow managed to flee to the farthest corner of the classroom without knowing it.

"Harry, Harry are you alright?  What did you see?" asked the Professor who seemed to be more interested in some vision than his actual condition.

She placed his glasses back over his eyes and he could see clearly at last.  The rest of the class except for Ron was huddled on the other side of the room.  They looked at him with wide fearful eyes as though he would suddenly attack them all.  Ron was ignoring the Professor's instructions and knelt by his friend.

"What did you see?" pressed Trelawney excitedly.  "You called out for your father.  What did he tell you?  A message from beyond the grave?  A warning?"

"N-no," he rasped out, "I'm fine.  It was nothing."

"My dear," she scolded, "It was not nothing.  You were positively livid with fear.  Something must have happened."

"I must have drifted off," he insisted, not wanting to tell her what happened, "It was just a dream."

She looked as though she would say more, but Ron cut in.  "Blimey, Harry!" he exclaimed, "Your hand!"

Harry looked down at his hand and found it covered in blood.  However, when he looked around, he could find no source of the cut.  There were no pointy objects within reach and if he looked closely, he thought he could see a part of the angel still imbedded in his skin.  He was still bleeding freely and was beginning to stain the soft carpet of the classroom.  Disappointed in her student's closed mouth, Professor Trelawney allowed Harry to go to the Hospital Wing to get his cut attended to although she had also noticed that there was no way he could have received the cut alone.

As Harry walked down the halls, he thought back to his dream.  It was not like what really happened, so why should he be having it?  He hadn't noticed when he drifted off and surely Parvati would have alerted him if he was yelling out.  What was going on?  And why did he feel like it wasn't over?  As much as he would like to deny it, Javen was still a part of him.  Their link was not destroyed with the man's death and he feared that the growing darkness was not just because of Voldemort.  No, Javen's accursed memory was kept alive by Harry who was still not able to let go of his experience.  Still with him, through him, in him.


	2. Any Dream Will Do

A/N: First of all, I would like to thank my beta reader Sarelle since I didn't do it at the beginning. It's always good to have someone like her to help work out your kinks. I suggest going to her little home in ff.net for a good read.  
  
Second, I would like to make it a habit to respond to as many reviews as I can. Like I've said before, reviews are great and help assure me that my stories aren't just wasting space. You guys are the greatest! Every 50th review will get a request story or addition to any WIP's. That's assuming anyone wants me to write them a story. ; p I'll explain this further when it happens. I also have my responses to the reviewers at the end of the chapter.  
  
//..// means flashbacks, memories, or dreams /./ means thoughts  
  
Part 2: Any Dream Will Do  
  
That Saturday evening, Harry hardly even tasted the food as he hurried to finish. He couldn't wait until after dinner to meet with Rob. He had so many questions burning inside of him. He could even forget about his earlier dreams and visions in his excitement. Rob was his path to overcoming the obstacle that Javen had placed in front of him. He was sure of it. Sirius' talks and his friends' assurances could only get him so far. This may be what he needed to end it all.  
  
"Harry, we've been talking," Hermione said matter-of-factly. When he didn't answer, she looked over to him. He was staring off into space and obviously not paying her any mind. She sighed in exasperation at Ron who shrugged and reached for another chicken leg. She poked Harry in the arm with her fork to grab his attention. "Harry, please pay attention!"  
  
"Huh?" He looked over to Hermione who wore a look on her face that he was now becoming accustomed to seeing. He was apt to zone out for periods of time more and more often since school had started and his friends were becoming less and less patient as time wore on. "Sorry, Hermione. I was just thinking."  
  
"That's all you seem to be doing lately," she lightly scolded, but he could sense an undertone of worry in her voice. "Anyway, me and Ron have been talking."  
  
"I'm sure you have." She ignored the jab.  
  
".And we think that you should see someone about these dreams. You've been getting them since you got home from the hospital. They've been getting worse each time too, haven't they? I mean, you usually don't get mysterious cuts and bruises during a dream. And what if they mean something? Your scar has been hurting too, hasn't it?"  
  
"I'm sure it's nothing," Harry insisted, not too sure himself, "I haven't had a dream with Voldemort in it for a long time. And it's not the same kind of dream anyway. These show what already happened, but with a different twist at the end." He decided not to tell them how he had gotten those bruises and cuts. He hadn't even described his dreams to them in a long time so he wasn't surprised that they were concerned. But it didn't mean that their constant fretting didn't irritate him sometimes.  
  
"They were all about Javen, right?" asked Ron. Harry nodded.  
  
"But he's dead."  
  
"My dad says that they haven't found the body yet," Ron continued. "And they've searched everywhere."  
  
"He's dead, Ron," insisted Harry uncomfortable with the new direction of talk, "You weren't there. No one could have survived that cave-in. Sirius and I barely got out ourselves. I saw him die. And I felt it too. Our link is gone. And it can only be destroyed through death. He's dead."  
  
"Then why do you look so afraid at the idea?" asked Hermione. "Look, I'm not saying we should institutionalize you or put you under maximum security. I just think you should talk to someone about it. Like Dumbledore."  
  
"I can't keep running to Dumbledore every time I get a nightmare," he said, very much annoyed with her poking her nose into his business.  
  
"Well then, Sirius or Remus," she returned.  
  
"Sirius would come back and pull me out of school if he knew. And Remus would tell Sirius."  
  
"Not if he didn't think it was important," Hermione said fiercely, "Listen to me, Harry. I know you are angry that everyone seems to fuss over you. And I know that you don't give much thought to your own safety. But we're only looking out for you. You are our friend and we want to see you safe. We don't want anything to happen to you if we can help it, especially not something like last summer. What can it hurt to tell Remus? Honestly?"  
  
"Fine, you win," he said, holding up his hands in mock defeat, "I'll send a letter to Remus as soon as Hedwig gets back from his house. I sent him a letter a few days ago asking about Sirius."  
  
Hermione looked at him long and hard as though trying to see if he was lying or not. Satisfied, she returned to her meal and soon another more pleasant conversation was brought up by one of the twins. Harry was not paying attention. His thoughts were hundreds of miles away.  
  
//Harry stood alongside Javen as they sent curse after curse at the Auror. Believing him to be a Death Eater in disguise, Harry had no problem in getting rid of the threat. His wand moved swiftly and surely as he shouted out various curses. He never felt so alive. He had never dueled like this before, and it felt as natural as flying. The power flowed through him like a river and he had no problem keeping up with his guardian.  
  
Whenever the power failed him and he silently asked for more, it would be there without fail. He was as strong as he wanted to be and the power rush made him dizzy. It did not matter that he had only just learned how to duel 'properly' from Javen; it was as though he had always known. Nothing remained of the unsure, stumbling boy that used to be him.  
  
He saw Javen leaving an opening for the Death Eater when he stumbled. He saw the moment of fear in his guardian's eyes as the enemy aimed his wand carefully. And he was the one who had to stop the fight before anyone got seriously hurt. Unwilling to use any of the Unforgivable Curses even in his power-hungry state, he let loose a powerful Stunning Curse to take the Death Eater out. The aim was true and the curse hit its mark. With a loud oomph, the Death Eater flew back among the rubbish when the curse hit. When the man finally landed a few feet away, it was a brick wall that broke his fall. An audible crack filled the now silent alleyway and the man lay motionless. Too motionless.  
  
The power rush began to fade from Harry and his red-hazed vision cleared at last. Javen was already praising him for quick reflexes and strong curses, but he wasn't paying attention. All his focus was on the still man on the other end of the alley. Even in an unconscious state, he should not be so still. Oh, God.please let him move the slightest bit.  
  
Javen followed his line of vision and walked over to the fallen Death Eater. Placing a hand against the man's neck, he checked for a pulse. Quickly removing his hand as though the physical contact disgusted him, he turned to Harry solemnly and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry. Your father did not survive."  
  
The rush and the pleasure came to a screeching halt for Harry. His father? What was going on? It was a Death Eater, wasn't it?  
  
He ran to where the Death Eater lay and gasped in horror as he saw the face. It was Sirius there, lying so still and a bluish tint coming into his lips already. The look on his face was frozen in betrayal and a tear stained his left cheek where the blood from the head wound mingled with it.  
  
"No," he whispered, "What have I done?"  
  
Javen casually transfigured the body into a rat, a rat with one missing toe, and threw it away in the nearest trash can. He turned to Harry with a gentle, loving gaze.  
  
"Harry, if I thought I could have saved him I would have. But the curse was already cast and.Life goes on, Harry. Soon, you will learn to forget and put it behind you."  
  
"Forget, yes," Harry found himself saying as though in a trance. Javen crept into his mind willing for the boy to forget. It wasn't Sirius that he had killed. It was a Death Eater. And not even that. It was nothing but a rat. Why, then, when Harry walked away from the scene, his heart light and happy, that there were tears streaming down his face?//  
  
A powerful slap knocked him out of his trance. The motion caused him to nearly fall out of his chair. When he looked back startled, Hermione was standing over him looking as though she would do it again though her eyes were wide with fear. When she raised her hand again, he involuntarily flinched and raised his hands in defense whimpering slightly.  
  
Hermione stared back at him and dropped her hand. The look on his face was enough to halt a raging hippogriff. He wasn't startled anymore. He was afraid; terrified. He had even let out a whimper of fear. But what was he so frightened of when she had never heard him make such a noise? Then she realized what it was. She had struck him.  
  
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," she burst out, "I wasn't thinking. After what happened during the summer.I just didn't know how to snap you out of it."  
  
"What did you see?" asked Ron, his face pale and his eyes wider than a houself's. Harry wondered why everyone was giving him such strange looks. Yeah, he had made a prat of himself by flinching and crying out, but.he reached up to his face and realized he was crying. Crying heavily judging his friends' faces and the amount of tears still streaming from his itchy eyes.  
  
"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Rob coming up to him, "I heard you cry out."  
  
"I'm fine, Rob. I just blanked out for a.second." He stared at Rob for a moment. That feeling of familiarity came back to him as Rob repeated Javen's words. What was going on?  
  
"This has to stop, Harry," Hermione said still shaken by what she had seen, "You can't keep doing this."  
  
"Doing what?" he demanded, "You think I'm doing this on purpose!? I can't make it stop anymore than I can stop anything else that's happening. I don't get it. Why is this happening? Why now after all that's happened? And why can't I do anything about it?!"  
  
He tore his eyes from his friends. He hated that look. It was a look he had been receiving more and more often and he couldn't stand it anymore. He didn't need their pity or their understanding. He needed answers. And he needed a cure to this.whatever it was.  
  
"You've got a letter," Ron said softly, timidly.  
  
/Great,/ thought Harry, /Now I'm scaring away my friends./  
  
He reached over to stroke Hedwig who was taking large gulps from his pumpkin juice. She hooted at him softly and stuck out her leg. Harry took the note and sat back to read it wondering what Remus had to say. Usually his letters weren't so long. Harry, Thank you for your last letter. First and foremost, I must tell you that the Aurors have contacted me with new information. Javen's body was recovered at the site of the cave-in. You have no more to fear from him. He was killed instantly in the cave-in.  
  
I can also assure you that Sirius is just fine and that he is dying to come home. He says to say hi and that he misses you. He also said to keep up with your studies, even Potions. But trust me when I say that he is very much safe and will be home in time for Christmas at the latest.  
  
Now, here's the bad news. Apparently, the Dursleys decided to go over your parents' wills to make sure that there was no inheritance they might have missed that would go to them. When they found out about the money was turned over to you they investigated to see how much still remained and what it was worth in Muggle money. It is worth over $100,000 easily by the way.  
  
They are now fighting for custody of you on the grounds that they only gave you to Sirius because of threats. While all of us know that they were not threatened (though Sirius would've taken it that far) we have to admit that there were no formal signings to hand over custody, rightful guardian or not. They are taking this to court and are trying to make it sound like you are better off with them because Sirius is irresponsible and puts your safety at risk.  
  
They are using every incident from 1st year up and are focusing mainly on your various encounters with Sirius in 3rd year and the situation last summer. This has not reached mainstream news yet in the wizarding world, but it will very shortly. This will not be easy and it will not be a one-day affair. I assure you that Sirius and I are doing everything in our power to prevent the turnover, but from the way things are going, it will be very hard. The Dursleys have a good lawyer on their side and came up with a convincing story for the danger you are in.  
  
I have contacted Dumbledore with this information and we are working on a defense as you are reading this. Do not worry; we refuse to allow this to happen. Please respond to me and give your thoughts. Don't hesitate to come to me with any concerns. ~ Remus  
  
Harry read and re-read the letter until he thought he nearly had it memorized. Well, this just made his day that much better didn't it? Not only do his friends think he's a lunatic, but the Dursleys wanted him back just for his money. Great.  
  
He gave the note to his friends to read as he struggled with his thoughts. What could he do now? He was still trying to get over what happened during the summer and now he was supposed to prove to a judge that he was happy here? This wasn't fair! He had thought the Dursleys were just a bad memory now. And now they had to come up and say that Sirius put Harry in danger. Sirius was the only person who ever really kept him out of danger. It was the rest of the world that seemed to want to do him in. None of it was Sirius' fault. Without him, Harry was sure he would be long dead.  
  
Unable to contain his feelings without causing a scene, Harry mumbled some excuse to his friends and left the table for the Common Room with Hedwig on his shoulder. He needed to vent and he couldn't do that here.  
  
Once safely inside, he summoned some parchment and a quill and set about writing a letter to Remus. He could no longer pretend that everything was fine. Once started, he continued to relate everything about his recurring dreams, visions, and the injuries he had sustained. Then he went on to say that he thought they meant something like most of his painful visions. With Javen gone, the only explanation was that the Javen in his dreams symbolized the Dursleys and whenever Sirius was hurt, angry, or killed, it was because of Harry.  
  
Everything that had happened lately hinted at danger. And now the danger, those dreams, was pulling him closer and closer to the Dursleys. That's where the danger was centered. He had felt it all along. Perhaps these dreams mean that he will one day betray Sirius by leaving him for the Dursleys. Although he could never imagine doing that, he couldn't be too sure. Stranger things had happened.  
  
How could he convince the Dursleys to leave him alone? Suddenly he knew what he had to do. It was risky and the consequences would be great if he were caught, but he had nothing else to do. He was just desperate enough to do it. He would do it when everyone else was asleep and hopefully be back before dawn. If no one noted his absence by the time he got back, then no one would be the wiser. Besides, even if he were noticed missing, no one would think it unusual. He was beginning to think that Hermione didn't consider him normal unless he were out having some adventure or making a scene. There, it was set. He would go tonight.  
  
He signed the letter and gave it to Hedwig. As he watched her fly away, his thoughts began to calm and he didn't feel as angry. He knew what he had to do and he felt in control for the first time in weeks.  
  
The door opened behind him and he guessed that dinner was over. Most of the students went up to their dorms, tired from a long day at Hogsmeade. However, Ron and Hermione, true to their friendship, made a beeline to Harry's side. He turned around to greet them, noticing Rob hanging back at the fireplace.  
  
"At the risk of repeating myself," Hermione said holding Remus' letter, "Are you alright?"  
  
"I am now," he said truthfully, "I just wrote Remus back. I told him about the dreams and injuries."  
  
"And the Dursleys?" asked Ron, "What do you think?"  
  
Harry smiled grimly, "I think I know a way to end the visions and their claim at the same time. Just give me some time."  
  
"If you're sure," Hermione said uncertainly, "I just don't want you to do something stupid."  
  
"You mean like get passed a three-headed dog, fight a girl-possessing ghost, track down a mass murderer, and steal from a dragon?" he joked. She tried to look stern but ended up smiling despite herself.  
  
"If you get yourself killed I'll never speak to you ever again," she swore.  
  
"Is that a promise?" Ron piped in. She jabbed him in the ribs and turned to the girls' dorms yawning.  
  
"Well, if you're sure you're fine."  
  
"Go on, Hermione," Harry said, "I won't break."  
  
She sighed and climbed the winding stairs. Ron turned to Harry grinning mischievously.  
  
"Y'know, maybe getting yourself killed might not be such a bad idea," he said, "If it'll get Hermione to be quiet."  
  
"I heard that Ronald Weasley!" came a shout from upstairs. He and Harry shared a good chuckle at this.  
  
"I'll be up in a few minutes," said Harry, "I just have to help Rob with his homework."  
  
Ron nodded and followed the other boys to the dorms. When all the Gryffandors had gone to bed, Harry joined Rob by the fireside. It was now or never to learn all he could about his former adversary.  
  
"You said you wanted to talk to me," Rob started. Harry nodded, sitting down across from him. Suddenly, all of his bravado left him as he was faced with the young boy and his large blue eyes.  
  
"Yeah. If you don't mind, that is."  
  
"I wouldn't be here if I minded," Rob replied. Harry shivered again. He wished the boy wouldn't stare at him like that. He stared like Javen did when he was trying to make sense of a situation.  
  
"I thought you should know that.that the Aurors have found his body. Javen's I mean. He died instantly." Harry felt that it was the only way to open up the conversation without blatantly interrogating the boy.  
  
"There was no suffering?" asked Rob. Harry shook his head deciding not to mention the battle that led to Javen's death. No, when he died it was instant and there was no further pain.  
  
"If you want me to be honest with you, Harry," Rob said angrily, "Then you'd better be honest with me."  
  
Harry sat back stunned. How had Rob known? Surely his only source of information was his mother, but how had she known? He and Sirius had told no one and they were the only witnesses to Javen's last moments. Even Rita Skeeter was unable to dig up much information on the occurrences.  
  
"W-well, there was a fight before the cave in if that's what you mean," Harry said. "What do you know about what happened?"  
  
Rob began speaking in a voice that betrayed no emotions behind the facts or judgment, "I know that Javen led the Death Eaters to your house as a distraction. With everyone thinking you and Sirius were dead, my father could take you where he wanted. I know that he tried to teach you how to complete his revenge by teaching you to duel. I know that Sirius somehow tracked you down and together you killed my father." He paused for a moment before looking straight into Harry's eyes, "I know that you killed a man."  
  
"How do you know this?" Harry whispered fiercely, afraid someone might hear, "How could you when no one else knows?"  
  
"Does it matter how I know? What matters is that I know the truth and that you are honest with me."  
  
Harry was startled into silence. How had Rob twisted the purposes of this meeting so that instead of Harry receiving answers from the boy, it was the other way around?  
  
Rob composed himself again, visibly thrusting his anger away where it could do no harm. "Forgive me," he said, "I've gone and let my temper get the better of me again. I do not mean to be so rude. But.he was my father. Despite what he's done or has been accused of doing, he was still my father."  
  
"It's ok," Harry assured, still shaken by the ferocity of Rob's previous outburst. "I understand. It must be hard on you after all that's happened."  
  
Rob nodded, smiling slightly, "I've gone through more than one should ever have to." His voice was soft, sorrowful. His mind was miles away from the conversation.  
  
"It was wrong of me to ask for this meeting," Harry burst out feeling for the young boy in front of him, "I shouldn't."  
  
"I was the one who asked for it," Rob interrupted, his thoughts returned from where they had gone. "It will be good for both of us."  
  
"Can you tell me about Javen?" asked Harry suddenly, "Anything from what you remember. I'm afraid I don't understand as well as I would like to. I can't believe that someone would do the things he's done for no reason."  
  
Rob sat back and thought for a minute before telling his story. "I remember him being so kind and happy. He loved my mother and me even when he was divorced. He would teach me how to play Quidditch and take me out to games when he could. The job at the Ministry was hard on him and he didn't have much time to spare. If he ever struck me, it was for discipline only and my pride smarted more than anything. But I remember he was haunted. You are an orphan, Harry. Surely you must know part of what he felt when Voldemort killed his parents. Only he was older when it happened. He could remember everything more clearly. And he swore to avenge them one day no matter what.  
  
"He quit the Ministry because they held him back from his vow. They thought he was too angry and wouldn't let him get too close to the field jobs. Meeting you must have been like a ray of hope for him. You were the only one to ever stand up to Voldemort and survive. The thought that you could be the key to his final act of revenge must have been too much for him. That's the only explanation I have for his going off the edge. It is hard to believe the things that you and your father say he did. Forgive me again, Harry. I mean no offence to you. These are just my thoughts."  
  
After that, Rob grew silent and observed the reaction his words were having on Harry. Harry lost eye contact after a minute, unable to stand those two piercing eyes. Why must everything about the boy remind him of Javen? Why couldn't his haunting presence just leave him alone?  
  
Tearing himself from Rob's stare, Harry got up and turned to go upstairs. "It's very late, Rob. We should go to bed," he mumbled in an excuse to get away.  
  
"Wait! You never told me what you thought of him," Rob interrupted, "Please tell me."  
  
The teenager stood next to the stairs for a long time to think over his answer. Sirius' words came back to him and he found his answer. "I think he was a sick man who didn't care who he hurt to reach his goal. If it weren't for my father, Javen would have killed me. I don't know who he was when you knew him, but the Javen I knew was a very sick man." Ignoring Rob's gasp of surprise or the boy's growing anger, Harry calmly walked up the stairs, knowing what he had to do to solve all his problems. The insistent little voice in his head was growing in intensity now and it could not be denied. He would not allow himself to be weak this time. If he wanted to remain in Sirius' care and to attend Hogwarts again, he had to take the initiative. Nothing else mattered except to see the Dursleys. And that would happen tonight before anything else got out of hand.  
  
When he reached his dorm, Harry made sure all the boys were asleep. When he was sure, he got out his Firebolt and Invisibility Cloak. As an afterthought, he wrote out a letter for Ron in the event he didn't make it back before he was missed. It wasn't much of a note. Only an assurance that he knew what he was doing and that he would be back as soon as possible. He told him not to worry about him for everything would be alright. Giving one last glance at the dorm, he fled the Gryfindor tower to the Astronomy Tower. Throwing his cloak on, he flew away into the night, desperate to put his mind to rest once and for all.  
  
**** Harry stumbled along Privet Drive for what seemed like an eternity. He didn't know where he came from or where he was going. All he knew was that he was walking and couldn't find the strength to stop. Something tugged at the back of his mind in warning, so he reached for his wand, but found it suddenly missing. Where was it.? And there was something sticky on his hands.something that smelled terrible. But he could not think straight. What was wrong with him? Where were his glasses? It had only been a few hours since he left school and here he was wandering around like he had been lost for days. He barely registered the fact that the sun was beginning to poke through the trees in front of him. The glare only further confused him.  
  
"Halt!" a sharp voice said behind him. He turned around to meet the blurry forms of nearly 20 men on broomsticks. They wore the robes of Senior Aurors. And they all had their wands pointed at him.  
  
"Wh-what's going on?" he asked weakly. What were they playing at?  
  
"Harold James Potter Black," the first speaker said with ice in his voice, "You are under arrest by order of the Ministry of Magic."  
  
"What for?" Harry's groggy countenance shot up quickly. Something was terribly wrong here.  
  
"For violation of Article 116, Section 9," another Auror said. Harry stared at him bewildered. How could he be expected to know.  
  
"Murder, Mr. Black," the first Auror said grimly, "Murder of a Muggle family in the First Degree."  
  
End Chapter 2  
  
Sorry! I know how much people hate cliffhangers, but I couldn't resist. So, what does everyone think? Any ideas on what's going on? I'm always open to new ideas and insights. Unfortunately, it may be some time before chap. 3 is up due to time and some certain research I need to do with my Beta reader concerning the story. Be patient with me and keep pestering me to work on it. I promise it'll be done soon.  
  
So here are my responses to some reviews I got for the previous chapter.  
  
Megan: Thanks for the review. I love Sirius too and I can't help but put him in my stories. Unfortunately, I sort of make him a bad guy mid-way in the story. It's actually quite sad. But all will be good in the end. And thank you for your comment on SGNG.  
  
Emilie: Don't worry, I'll update as soon as I can.  
  
Abby: Thanks!  
  
Nicky: Actually, his absence was a coincidence, but now that you mention it.I like the way you think. If you have an idea, please feel free to e- mail it to me. I'll give you credit for your idea if I use it. And yes, Rob's appearance wasn't a coincidence. If you read SGNG carefully, you'll find an interesting fact about Javen having offspring. Brownie points to the first one who figures it out. And about Harry being alone later.well, you'll see at the end of the next chapter. (Hopefully)  
  
Coqui: Heartwrenching, huh? Thank you, it's how I intended it. Yeah, I suppose this is a series now, isn't it? I actually was thinking of writing a prequel to SGNG to finish off this particular series. What do you guys think? It would be about Javen mostly, and how he became the evil person we know and hate. Set around his Hogwarts days and after.  
  
Kelly: I'll try to update as much as I can. I promise. 


	3. Fallen Leaves of Blood and Gold

A/N:  Sirius' view of Americans in general is not meant to reflect my opinion or the opinion of others.  I apologize for any offense my fellow Yanks may take on this.  I just figured he was more than ready to come home after a long and tedious mission.  Grr! I have little to no time to update anymore, so the rest may be short in coming. Special thanks to my Beta Sarelle for getting me the information I requested.  Hopefully, the long anticipated trial will commence shortly.

Part 3: Fallen Leaves of Blood and Gold

Dumbledore sat heavily at his desk as he re-read the parchment in front of him.  This was all very surreal to him, and he had no idea how to proceed from the position he was in.  The door to his office opened and in walked Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley.  Dumbledore sighed and bade them come in.  Nervously, the students obeyed.  It was the first time either of them had been summoned to the Headmaster's office.

"Thank you for coming," he greeted them solemnly, "I'll be sure to speak to your professors about your absences."

"What's wrong, Professor?" asked Hermione softly.  She had never seen her Headmaster look so…well…miserable before.  Not since Cedric's death.  And even then it was a mournful, solemn affair.  Now, he looked cowed, beaten.  No twinkle was in his eye and he carried himself like the old man he was.

"Please have a seat and I'll explain everything to you."  

They obeyed and he took out two pieces of parchment.  He handed one to the two students in front of him, "About the same time that you gave me Harry's letter, Mr. Weasley, the Ministry of Magic sent me this letter.  It's from the Department of Prevention of Cruelty of Muggles and the Department of the Dark Arts."

Hermione took it from Ron and read it aloud for Ron's sake, 

"Dear Professor Dumbledore,

            It has been brought to our attention that a little after midnight a student of yours by the name of Harold James Potter Black left the premises of Hogwarts riding a Firebolt and sporting a cloak of invisibility.  Around three in the morning, magic was reported to have been performed by an underage wizard at the household of Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley at 4 Privet Drive.  Two hours later, a team of hit wizards and Aurors were sent to the scene to investigate where the bodies of the three Muggles were found.  They then apprehended Mr. Black a half hour later fleeing the scene of the crime.

            Since the time of his apprehension, certain evidence has been obtained that would lead us to believe that Mr. Black may have had a role to play in this crime.  Until further notice, he will be kept in a holding cell guarded by two dementors inside the Department of the Dark Arts.  He has been formerly accused of the crime of first degree murder and a trial date will soon be set.  We advise you to contact his guardian so a defense attorney can be found.  We are sorry for any inconvenience this may cause you.

                        Sincerely,

            Adam McGinn, Head of the Department of Prevention of Cruelty to Muggles

            Celeste Moriarty, Head of the Department of the Dark Arts"

Ron sat in his chair with a dumbfounded expression on his face, "There is no bloody way that Harry could've done this!  They've got the wrong guy! 'Certain evidence' my--"

"Mr. Weasley, please calm yourself," Dumbledore chided gently, "We all know that the idea of Harry being a murderer is inconceivable.  However, there are a few questions I have myself.  What exactly were his intentions on the night he left?  Was he distraught or angry about something?  I need you to remember everything you can about the events leading up to last night if it is to help Harry's case.  Don't tell me anything right now.  I want you to think about it long and hard.  You may be called as witnesses in the trial and I need you with a clear, focused mind."

Hermione looked up from the parchment with eyes shining with unshed tears.  "Does Sirius know yet?"

"I've already sent a letter to Remus and he will forward the message to Sirius in America.  I thought it might be best for him to hear it from a friend.  Sirius should be back as soon as he can safely withdraw from his mission."

Ron's fierce brown eyes met with Dumbledore's in an unspoken challenge.  "What do you think, Professor?"

The Headmaster recognized the challenge for what it was.  "Whatever I think about the situation is irrelevant, Mr. Weasley.  It has been taken out of my hands.  Besides, you do not need me to tell you what you should think.  Therefore, I shall remain safely unbiased until the trial has reached its end."  He shook his head to clear his rapid thoughts, "You may return to your Common Room now to think this over.  But please try not to discuss this with your classmates who are not involved.  And try to keep an unbiased view as well.  Personal feelings are rarely to be trusted in matters such as this.  Keep to the facts and you will get your answers."

They stood and left the room without so much as a word of parting to the Headmaster.  They felt he was turning his back on Harry and assumed the boy's guilt.  Oh, if only they knew what he really thought.  He sighed.  Yes, they had to stick to the facts if it was to prove the boy's innocence.  And of Harry's innocence, Professor Dumbledore had no doubt.

/Oh, Harry,/ he thought sadly, /What have you gotten yourself involved in this time?/

****

The atmosphere of the Tricky Brew Bar, usually dreary and laid back, was suddenly abuzz with excitement.  Sirius sighed and sat at his usual seat in the corner.  Such was the way with Americans, he mused, cradling a Jack Daniels.  One minute they had something of great importance and excitement on their minds and the next, they were back to their dull boring lives again.  Whatever it was, he was sure it would not captivate their attention for very long as Americans in general seemed to get very bored very quickly.  He was beginning to miss even the everlasting rain of England as opposed to this ever-changing New England weather.  One had to wear a winter jacket, shorts, and a poncho just to keep up with it all.

It did not take long for Sirius' contact to meet up with him in his corner.  The American Unspeakable, known only as Rabbit, was acting undercover in a small coven of Death Eaters.  It was Rabbit's job to keep Sirius informed of their movements and Sirius' job in return to alert the appropriate Wizard governments, be it American or British, to prevent their progress without anyone's cover being blown.  All in all, it was a very tedious and nerve-wracking experience and he was pleased to see it coming to an end.  Rabbit was just about ready to set up the ultimate trap for the Death Eaters.  Then it was prison for the coven, a pay raise for Rabbit, and a first-class ticket home for Sirius.

Rabbit sat casually across from Sirius and ordered a whisky.  He had something folded up under his arm, but Sirius wasn't about to comment on it.  Rabbit was a friendly enough person until you got to asking questions you had no business asking.  It was wise just to mind your own business around him.  Besides, Sirius didn't really care what it was.  His thoughts were thousands of miles away on his homeland where a certain boy was waiting for his father to come home.  He couldn't wait to see Harry again and wondered how he was getting along.

"Evening, Snuffles," Rabbit greeted, using their agreed term for Sirius in case anything was intercepted.

Sirius greeted him absently, "Rabbit."  He nodded at the excited group of wizards talking in the rest of the Tricky Brew.  "What's up with them?  Did the Weird Sisters break up or something?"

Rabbit's eyes widened slightly, but he gave no other perception he was startled, "What's got your wand in knot?"  /He must not know yet.  But how could he not know about his own son…/

"Sorry, Rabbit," Sirius apologized, "My mind's just a little frayed, that's all.  I'm a little preoccupied."

"Ah," Rabbit nodded with understanding, "With your boy?"

Sirius nodded.  In the short time they had known each other, they had swapped a few stories.  Nothing major in case anyone else overheard, but so they got to work more as partners instead of impersonal contacts.  During these talks, Sirius had talked about Harry a bit.  It was no secret to Rabbit who Sirius was or his 'son'.  And it was obvious just by talking to the British agent how much Harry meant to him.

"I understand perfectly, Snuffles," Rabbit assured, thinking Sirius already knew, "As soon as this mission is over, you can go back to see him.  I'm sure he's wondering where you are by now."

Sirius thought this was odd, but let it slide.  After all, he had had a long day and perhaps one more drink than was wise.  "Do you have the information I asked for?" he asked, getting straight to business.

Rabbit nodded and ran a hand through his sandy blond hair, "Yeah.  The final plan can be carried out tomorrow night.  I told the leader, you know, Bren, that a British Death Eater would meet him with news of You-Know-Who's return."

Sirius nodded, silently grateful that the American President of Magic was much more realistic than Fudge.  President Kali Alwin was made aware of recent events by Dumbldore and reacted well to it.  She placed all of her Departments on high alert and made sure that Voldemort's supporters would never find stable ground in her country.  So that made Rabbit all the more better to work with since he wasn't trying to deny anything was wrong as opposed to Croaker and his crowd of Unspeakables.  Alwin also welcomed Dumbledore's offer of a British agent to help take care of a strong Death Eater coven in Boston that was growing stronger.  Sirius' job was to get the coven out in the open so Kali's forces could take them out.

"Where is it going to take place?" asked Sirius.  Rabbit took out a map from his coat pocket.  Sirius noted mentally that the rolled up…thing still remained underneath his arm.  He pointed to a spot on the map of Boston.

"Here.  Just south of Quincy Market.  The Aurors and hit wizards can set up their ambush in the warehouses surrounding the meeting place.  It's behind another wizarding bar called The Celtic Curse.  Do you know it?"

"Yeah.  I went there to meet your superior.  Trance I believe she called herself."

Rabbit nodded, "Yes.  Well, you're going to be a Death Eater in the Inner Circle sent to oversee their progress in America.  Your name is Armand Flare, but I doubt we'll get as far as introductions.  Bren will want to move to a more 'secure' location to talk and you'll have to move your forces in fast.  The coven is a little skittish about being all together outside and will want to break up at the first sign of trouble.  A bit paranoid I say.  But Bren wants to make a good impression."

"What time?"

"Midnight, but you should have your men be there at nine.  He'll be looking for any unusual movement, so try to make them look inconspicuous when they arrive.  This is our only chance to get Bren's gang without a lot of bloodshed.  I don't need to tell you how important this mission is."

Sirius nodded, "Don't worry, Rabbit.  Everything will go as planned."

Satisfied with the answer, Rabbit looked over at the excited wizards and then back at Sirius, "So how do you think it'll turn out?"

"Just fine.  Bren won't be able to…"

"No, not that.  With your boy, I mean.  How do you think the trial will turn out?"

Sirius gave him an odd look, "Rabbit, what the bloody hell are you talking about?  What about my son?  And what trial?"

He looked over at the wizards in the bar and noticed for the first time that his son's name was definitely mentioned more than once.  In fact, he seemed to be the main topic of their debate.  How could he have missed it before?

Rabbit's large brown eyes grew wide again, "Y-you mean you haven't heard?  You of all people?  Have you been living under a rock somewhere?"

Sirius grew impatient with the roundabout talk.  Another thing that made him long for his native soil.  "Get to the point, Rabbit.  I've been very busy lately making sure your cover hasn't been blown.  So let's just say that I have been living under a rock.  What's going on?  Why are those wizards talking about Harry?"

Rabbit took out the folded up thing from underneath his arms and laid it in front of Sirius.  It was the latest edition of 'The Weekly Warlock'.  On it was a giant picture of Harry being led toward a very familiar prison.  One that Sirius had spent years trying to forget.

His face grew deathly pale as he read the caption below: The Boy Who Lived a cold blooded murderer?  Found fleeing the scene of murdered family of Muggles.  Details on page 3.

Rabbit knew the instant the words sank into his partner for as soon as Sirius had finished the caption, he was tearing through the article at record speed.  The reporters in America hadn't the sources that the British ones had, but what they did supply was enough to make the hair on the back of Sirius' neck stand on end.  Harry, his Harry, accused of the Dursleys' murder and taken to a low security cell in Azkaban to await trial.  His new father seemingly missing from the boy's side, but the godfather working tirelessly to move him from the prison to a less nerve-wracking holding facility.

Rabbit watched in mute surprise as Sirius quickly downed his drink in record timing and packed up his things.  He had heard of the man's unnerving temper, but had yet to see it.  Now he was sure that he never wanted to see it unleashed upon the man's object of fury.

"Snuffles," he tried between muttered curses of Fudge, Dursleys, and various other people, "You must calm down.  We are still in the middle of a mission."

Sirius stood up so fast his chair flew back into the corner, "Calm down?!  How can I calm down?  That's my son they have in that prison!  How could they!  He's just a boy!  Wait till…"

"Damnit, Snuffles!"  Rabbit shouted grabbing Sirius by the shoulders.  His temper too had its reputation among his colleagues, "Get a grip on yourself.  Wigging out is not going to change what happened!  The sooner you stop freaking on me, the sooner the mission is over, and the sooner you can go back to your boy."

"I've got to go back, Rabbit," Sirius argued, startled by the sudden change in his partner, "He needs me."

"My country needs you right now, Snuffles," Rabbit snapped, his brown eyes blazing with intensity. "You promised Alwin you would do your job, so do it!  I can't let you turn your back on my people like this just for one boy, no matter how special he is.  Hell, I have a little girl of my own.  I know how you want to keep him from all harm.  But the danger to her is more immediate than the danger to him.  I won't let her go through what we went through growing up.  Just wait until tomorrow night, Snuffles.  I swear the second Bren's coven is taken, you can Apparate yourself away."

"But my son—"

"—Can wait another 24 hours.  Promise me you'll wait, Snuffles.  Just one day is all I ask.  Please!"  Rabbit hadn't let go of Sirius' shoulders and the other wizards were beginning to notice.  Not wanting to attract any more attention, Rabbit let go of Sirius and sat back down.  "Promise me," he said in a more quiet voice becoming of his position.

Sirius stood there for a moment in miserable indecision.  He knew that he had already sworn to this mission and that Remus could handle things over there until he got back.  But, Merlin it was hard!  Harry was his son in all but blood and it broke his heart to see how he was always targeted like this.  But, Rabbit was right.  There was nothing he could do about it right now and the longer Bren's coven stayed free, the larger the threat of an uprising became.  This needed to be done.

He nodded in defeat and Rabbit sighed with relief.  "Good.  Now why don't you go get some sleep.  You have a busy day tomorrow and, if I'm any judge, you won't get much sleep in the next few days anyway."

Sirius nodded and turned toward the door.  "Bye, Rabbit."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Snuffles.  Get some rest."

He snorted in reply, "I'm sending the first owl I get my hands on to Britain.  I may not be there, but I need to get into contact with Moony.  He probably already sent me a message."

Rabbit frowned in disapproval.  "It's risky, Snuffles.  What if someone notices?"

"Then I'm receiving orders from Voldemort.  I don't care.  Goodbye, Rabbit.  I'll see you at midnight tomorrow."

****

Remus sat down in the large chair in total exhaustion.  If it was one thing he hated, it was dementors.  True, he did not the body-wrenching phobia that Harry had, but he knew he must have downed a ridiculous amount of chocolate that day.  Trying to deal with the dementors and Orcs was damn near impossible!  They wouldn't cave in the slightest and the Ministry was no help either.

Just as he was about to drift off into peaceful oblivion, a noise at the fire woke him up.  Wearily opening his eyes, he was surprised to see the face of his best friend in the fire.  He thought Sirius was restricted from fire messages until the mission was over.  Had it ended so quickly?

"I thought I'd find you at my place," Sirius said, barely keeping his patience in check.

"I wanted to see if there was anything here that could help Harry." Remus answered, hoping that Sirius had heard already and he didn't have to explain the situation…again.  And he didn't want to say how little luck he'd been having so far.  Almost all of Sirius and Harry's belongings were destroyed during the summer courtesy of Javen.

Sirius' face darkened even more and he held up Remus' letter and a copy of 'The Weekly Warlock' for Remus to see.  "Yes.  Moony, can you please tell me what the hell is happening over there?!  And why the hell is he in Azkaban of all places?!"

Remus ran a hand over his face as he struggled to maintain consciousness.  Didn't Sirius realize what time it was over here?  Instead, he merely answered, "The Ministry is under the impression that Harry killed the Dursleys.  Azkaban is just a precaution in case he decides to run before the trial starts.  I tried all bloody day to get him moved, but they won't have it.  The order comes from the Minister himself."

"I'm aware of all that, Moony.  All of America is.  But what about Harry?  How is he?  What does he say happened?  He was in school when this happened.  Why was he out of Hogwarts?"

"Slow down, Padfoot," Remus pleaded, "One thing at a time.  Harry is fine for the moment.  When they found him, he was terribly confused and he says he has no idea what happened.  He can't remember a thing since leaving the school.  And he won't say why he left.  Not with all the Aurors and dementors around."

Sirius swore softly for a moment before turning to his friend again.  "Hey, Moony," he noticed, "You don't look so good.  Are you alright?"

The werewolf chuckled at this, "Other than the fact I spent the entire day negotiating with those soul-sucking fiends, I feel fine.  I also see you have failed to notice what day it is today."  He saw that Sirius had indeed forgotten, "Tomorrow's the full moon."

His friend shook his head angrily, "But I'll be coming home tomorrow night.  Just as soon as I take care of my mission."

Remus sighed, "Well, unless you can stop time, I'm afraid I'll miss you.  What time are you coming home?"  
  


"A little after midnight tomorrow.  I wanted to be here as soon as possible."

"Don't worry about it, old friend.  I will see to him all day tomorrow and with the time difference, by the time you are home, it will be nearly dawn."

Sirius nodded and thought for a moment, "How could he not remember what happened?  There has to be something more to it."

"That's what he told me, Sirius.  And unless he'd hiding something…"  
  


"Shut it, Moony!"  Sirius exploded, "Don't you say that about Harry!  He didn't do anything wrong!"

Remus stood up from the chair, his blue-gray eyes flashing, "Don't you tell me to shut it, Sirius Black!  I'm not saying he did anything.  But look at it rationally for a moment instead of from a parent's point of view.  Anything short of a memory charm and Harry's hiding something.  We checked for one and there was nothing there.  They have a case, Sirius.  I've seen the evidence and they've got a real case."

"But how could something like this just happen?" demanded Sirius, "One doesn't just wake up and decide to kill their relatives."

At this, Remus' face lost its intensity and his face grew ashen.  Sinking back into the old chair, he put his head in his hands.  "Oh, God, Sirius.  It's all my fault.  I told him."

"Told him what, Moony?"  Now Sirius was concerned.  What could Remus possibly have done that could warrant recent events.  "Moony, what have you done?  Tell me!"

"I told him about the custody suit!" Remus exclaimed, "The day the Dursleys died I sent him a letter telling him about the Dursleys fighting for him.  Then he wrote to me telling me about all sorts of visions he's been having lately.  Then he said not to worry about the Dursleys.  He would take care of everything."

"You can't be thinking what I think you're thinking.  Tell me you're not," Sirius' voice grew dangerous again, "Not about your godson."

"What else is there to think?" Remus whispered.

"You're talking crazy, Moony!  He didn't kill anyone!  And why did you tell him about the Dursleys in the first place?  I thought we would take care of it."

"I wanted him to know the possibility of the change.  It wouldn't be fair if we were to tell him the day before he had to move back to that cupboard."

"If everything went to plan, he wouldn't have to move back to that god-forsaken cupboard.  Now take back what you just said about Harry!  I won't have you thinking he's guilty!"

Remus glared at the fireplace into Sirius' burning eyes, "I'm his defense attorney now, Padfoot.  I wouldn't be defending him if I didn't think there was a chance for him.  You're tired.  We both are.  And we won't get anything accomplished if we're screaming at each other.  You're in America and I'm here.  Nothing can change that now.  Now go back and finish your mission.  We'll talk when you get here."

"But Moony—"

"We will continue this discussion when you're back and well rested.  Not before.  Goodbye, Sirius."  With that, Remus took his wand and put the fire out.  Then he rested his head against Sirius' old pouf and quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

****

Huddled up into a ball was a young boy in a dimly lit cell.  Since coming here to Azkaban he hadn't had an ounce of sleep.  He was cold beyond all reasoning.  And the cold went far passed his skin, but to his bones, to his very soul.  He remembered how Sirius' eyes always hardened and a door would shut out the rest of the world whenever the dreaded prison was mentioned.  Now he understood why.  Even though he was in the lowest security part of the prison so his mind wouldn't rot like the others, he felt as though he were going mad.  

A single dementor patrolled up and down the row of cells, pausing now and then to hiss at Harry in anticipation.  And every time the creature floated passed, a new memory would surge his mind, overpowering all other senses.  At first it used to just be about his parents' deaths.  Now it was included with everything Javen did to him.  He could recall every horrible vision he had ever had.  And it now included whatever traces of the Dursleys' deaths he could remember.  That was one of the worst.

_//"Vernon!"_

_"Petunia, run!  He's mad!"_

_"Daddy!  Daddy, help me!"_

_"No!  Harry, no!  Please, Harry!//_

Harry tried to shut out their screams as they died.  It was the only time in his life any of them had ever called him 'Harry'.  What had happened?  How could he plead guilty or innocent if he had no idea what was going on himself?  Why had he gone to see the Dursleys?  He knew a moment ago, but now it was gone…

_//"Petunia, run!  He's mad!"//_

He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could.  He pulled his gray prison cloak tightly around him as though to keep off the cold.  They had taken his school robes away to be used as evidence.  Evidence of what, Harry could only imagine.  What would they find on his robes that wasn't on his very hands?  The gore of the Dursleys stained his hands far beyond what he could wash off.  It stained his very soul.

"Dad," he whimpered piteously, "Dad, please come back.  I need you."

A/N: Sorry it's so short.  With my Senior year now underway, it's becoming harder and harder to find a free moment.  Thank you for all your patience and I'll try to get the next part up as soon as possible.  And now for some responses:

Nicky: Woah!  One out of four entirely right!  You'll see which one soon.

Megan: Don't worry!  I'll update as soon as I can. ^_^

Avalon Princess: Thanks!  And I'll try to update as soon as my other bunnies stop pestering me.

Anonymous: Sorry about the cliffhangar.  It just seemed like a good place to stop.

Lily Potter: Oh! Why won't you tell me?! Oh, well, you'll just have to see if you're right and then you can tell me, right? Right?

Kayla Summers: Now, I can't tell you that!  That would ruin the entire story! ^_^.  I'll be nice and tell you if you e-mail me with a promise not to let the secret out.


	4. Deliver Me Through All of the Madness

Part 4: Deliver Me from all of the Madness

Sirius sat down stiffly and repressed a yawn.  All bloody night he had been leaping through every political hoop there was, and even some that weren't.  He had not slept in 72 hours and it was beginning to creep up on him.  The courtroom was bare except for the furniture that was necessary for such an occasion.  A bland, off-white room that revealed not the horrors that were discussed and performed there once.

He scowled as a shiver went down his spine.  He remembered this courtroom very well.  It was the one in which he had been sent for an impromptu mock trial that only took place to publicly announce his guilt and ship him off to Azkaban.  But there had been real murderers, and worse, here.  Massacres had been discussed here and the worse of the criminals had been put to death a few rooms away.  This was no place for a child.

And yet, a child was here.  A child had been held captive here and forced into the very same mock trial Sirius had gone through.  However, Sirius hadn't had a father so bent on getting him out of this like Sirius was.  Harry would be free as soon as his innocence was proven.  Of that he had no doubt.

He looked up to see Remus enter the room, also looking as though he hadn't slept peacefully in ages.  He spared Sirius a comforting smile as he continued his way to the defense table where he spread out all his papers.  Sirius knew that if anyone could save Harry from Fudge's political circus, it was the werewolf.  No one knew the Ministry like Remus did.  It came from years of experience as a registered werewolf and from being the best read of the Marauders.

Others soon came milling in; mostly spectators and reporters.  But there were some who came just for Harry's sake.  The Weasleys were there, as was Dumbledore and teachers who could spare a day or two away from school.  Sirius suspected that some of those present were there as witnesses and not just for spectating.  If any had a word to say against Harry, Sirius would…

The doors behind the judge's booth opened and four figures entered the room.  Two were Dementors and a third was an Orc who helped run the dreaded prison.  Humans were hard to come by when it came to staffing Azkaban, so the thick skinned and skulled creatures were employed often.  A leathery brown in appearance, Orcs were closely related to goblins, only with worse temperaments, larger bodies, and slower minds.  Sirius shuddered at some of the memories he had of those torture chambers Orcs delighted in operating.  He silently thanked whatever deity was listening that prisoners not convicted of any crimes were not allowed to be touched in any way by those horrid creatures.

A silent figure walked in the middle of the intimidating trio, so small that Sirius had at first passed him over.  Nearly a shadow of himself, Harry had lost a lot of weight since the accusation nearly a week ago.  Too much weight than was healthy.  It was a common occurrence among prisoners of Azkaban, yet it did not sate the rage building in the young father.  He had been refused all access to his adopted son since his return and knew little more about the case than did the general public.  He was not used to nor did he like being so useless and helpless to the boy who meant more to him than all else.  Yes, he thought.  If it was the last thing he did, he would see his son's name cleared of all suspicion.

Harry did not look at Sirius, nor at anything, as he made his way across the floor.  His body could only focus on one thing at a time, and right then, it was focused on getting to the other side of the room without passing out.  The constant presence of the Dementors did little to get him more accustomed to their influence or to make him less afraid.  In his mind he heard the eternal screaming of his mother.  And also, he could hear the frightened yells of his uncle; the last thing he ever heard from his former foster family.  Their dying screams were forever etched in his mind and he could do nothing about it.

The itchy gray prison cloak he wore nearly tripped him up as he passed the jury stand.  Cloaks such as his were designed for hardened criminals in the prime of their lives.  Not frightened teenagers.  It weighed him down, just as the Dementors constantly weighed down his heart.  What he wouldn't give for a giant bar of chocolate just then.

Daring to look up, he saw passed the black cloaks of his guards and into the audience.  His friends, teachers, and even Headmaster were there, silently offering him their comfort and support.  Hagrid stood in the back, too big for the benches, yet refusing to leave his young charge.  Looking into the bench behind his own table was a sight he had longed and yet feared to see for the past week.  Sirius sat there calmly, belying any emotion he might be feeling.  However, Harry knew his beloved father well enough to see past the calm exterior.

Sirius' light sapphire eyes were a storm of emotion, barely containing their rage and disgust.  At this, the young wizard felt his heart squeeze tight in his throat.  Sirius couldn't think he did such a thing, could he?  Surely that look of revulsion wasn't meant for him.  Their eyes met for the first time in a month and the knot in Harry's stomach relaxed once more.  The deep love in Sirius' eyes assured the boy of his place in the man's heart.  Nothing could change that and Sirius would never believe the cruel lies of the Ministry.

The walk to the safety of the defense table seemed like it took forever, yet it was really less than a minute.  Remus was waiting for Harry and conjured up a seat for the boy to slump down in.  He offered the boy a light squeeze on the shoulder.

'What a fine pair we make,' thought the werewolf wearily. 'We haven't slept for 8 hours between the two of us.  How can we hope to defend this case if we nod off on the stand?'

"How are you, Harry?" asked Remus quietly.  He had been with Harry at least 3 times a day trying to get all the information he could for the case.  Unfortunately, the time allotted them did not allow for the comfort he would have liked to give the boy on top of the questioning.

Harry only shrugged. "Fine," he mumbled looking anything but 'fine'.  But it would have to do for the moment as the door behind the judge's stand opened once more.  A Senior Auror entered the room, wearing the blood red robes of his office.

"All rise for the Honorable Morgan Du Lac, who will be presiding over the case of Ministry vs. Black."

Harry pushed himself to his feet wearily.  Even standing was a struggle at this point when all he wanted was a warm blanket for his frozen body and soul and a soft bed free of the madness surrounding him.  The judge, a middle-aged witch, entered wearing the neutral black and white robes of her position.  

She had a stern face, much like Professor McGonnagal's, but without the kind undertone the aging teacher's eyes carried.  This judge had seen the worst of murderers and Death Eaters.  She had sent many to the execution chamber and even more to Azkaban never to see the light of day again.  This was a judge hardened by time and would not give an inch where it was not due.  But she was fair.  She would not send a boy to Azkaban if he did not deserve it.  Ms. Du Lac looked down on Harry and he knew that the one wish he had had all his life in the wizarding world had finally come true: she did not see him as anything but an underage wizard accused of the worst of crimes.  He was not The Boy Who Lived.  He was no one.

The court sat with the judge and the trial began.  The trial of the century.  The trial of the Boy Who Lived.

****

"…It is my personal and educated opinion that this child's recent history, as well as the history of his entire life, has rendered him mentally unstable and left him a danger to himself and others.  It is time that he be held accountable for his actions.  He may be a minor, but he knows what evil is.  And he cannot be allowed to be overlooked just because of an event that occurred before he could walk.  I ask that a family of Muggles be given the justice that Auror Granby and Javen Derios were not given.  And I ask that you, honorable members of the jury, determine the truth and act accordingly."  With that, the prosecutor, a young wizard by the name of Thomas Montere finished his opening statement.  He sat down with a bow to the judge and jury, sparing a smug glance to his opponents.

"Mr. Lupin," Du Lac addressed, "Do you have any opening statements before this trial officially opens?"

Remus stood up slowly, taking a deep breath.  "I do, your Honor," he said.  Inwardly, he grimaced.  Public speaking never was his strong point.  As well as being the best read of the Marauders, he was also the most soft-spoken.  However, one look at Harry's large green eyes, depthless in their grief, reminded him of what he was fighting for.  He would succeed.  He had to.

"Your Honor, members of the jury," he acknowledged.  "There are not many wizards or witches alive who have faced what this child has faced.  He has seen and been victimized to things that would drive any of us to the brink of madness.  Yet, he has come out each time with more moral character, bravery, and strength than the best of us.  This last summer's occurrence is no exception.  He has shown no signs that he has crossed the line into the realm of Dark Magic.  He is no murderer and anything that Mr. Montere has referred to considering Derios and Granby has no significance here.  That case has been already reviewed and thrown aside.  I ask that you, honorable members of the jury, find this boy innocent.  Not because he is the Boy Who Lived, but because he did not, could not, commit this crime."

His opening words were not as long or eloquent as those of Montere, but they were heartfelt and got to the point.  However, it was painfully obvious that Remus did not have the experience needed to pull off this defense.  He could only hope on the truth to push aside any of the games the famed prosecutor might pull.

Du Lac nodded at his words politely. "Now then," she said, "We shall hear the prosecution make its case before moving to the defense after which the jury will come to a verdict.  Mr. Montere, you may present your case."

The young lawyer stood and walked to the center of the room with ease, betraying his experience to the audience.  Harry watched numbly, a pit growing in his stomach again.  How could he hope to defend himself when even he did not know the truth?  The Dementor behind him shifted and a new wave of horror swept through him as he heard his uncle's dying screams again.

Montere turned to look at Harry, his dark eyes sneering at the boy.  He smiled ferally and declared that which shocked the courtroom.  "I call Mr. Harry Black to the stand."

The room broke out in furious whispers.  To make such a bold move so early on was either very clever or very foolish.  This one testimony could make or break the prosecution.

As Harry stood to take his place on the stand, Remus leaned over to whisper in the boy's ear, "do not answer anything that makes you uncomfortable.  You need not incriminate yourself.  He will try to trip you up and twist your words."

"I know," Harry said in a soft blank voice.  "I have it under control."

Remus sighed and let the boy go up to the witness stand.  There was no more he could do to help his godson.

Harry was sworn in and gratefully sat down.  "Good morning, Harry," Montere said in a friendly but false voice.  He had no desire to be Harry's friend.  All he was concerned with was winning this case and Harry knew it.

"Good morning, sir," Harry answered in a neutral voice.

"How old are you, Harry?"

"15."

"And how long have you known the Dursely's?"

"All my life.  They took me in when I was a baby."

"And how did they treat you?"

Harry stiffened.  This wasn't a subject he wanted to discuss, but a look from the judge made him answer.  "They locked me in a cupboard.  I owned nothing and I was bullied by my cousin all the time."

"And tell us about when you received a note in school a few weeks ago.  The one about the Dursleys."

The boy took a deep breath and answered, looking the young lawyer in the face.  "I got a note from Remus saying that the Dursleys were fighting for custody again after they found out about my gold in Gringotts."

"So you had a lot of resentment built up towards them at that point, didn't you?  You may have even felt like you would do anything to get rid of them."

"Objection!" exclaimed Remus from his seat,  "Your Honor, he's leading the witness."

"Objection sustained," the judge agreed.  She turned to Montere, "I believe he is supposed to answer the questions, not you."

Montere nodded, "Question withdrawn."  He looked back at Harry seemingly unabashed.  He held up a crumpled note and should it to the judge, "Your Honor, I would like to enter this into evidence."

Du Lac agreed, "So entered."

Montere walked back to the witness stand and handed the paper to Harry, "Would you mind reading this to the court, Harry?"

Harry took the paper and skimmed over it.  It was the paper he had written to Ron right before he left to see the Dursleys.  Even now, his head hurt to think of his motives then.  He couldn't remember anything and it frustrated him to no end.  However, the court was waiting for him to speak, so speak he did.

"'R on, don' t worry, I'll be back soon.  Tell Hermione not to worry either.  If I'm not back in time for classes, just tell the professors I wasn't feeling well and I'm laying down in our dorms.  I've found a way to get rid of the Dursleys' claim on me forever.  Don't worry for me, I've got everything under control.'" He handed the note back to the prosecutor who was barely concealing his smirk.

"Now, Harry," Montere said handing the note to the nearest Auror to be entered into the evidence.  "Why would you write such a thing?  What was your intention when you left school?  And why have your friends lie to cover up your misdeeds?"

"I don't remember," Harry said, "I don't remember anything that happened that night."

Montere turned and stared at the boy. "You are under oath, Mr. Black," he warned.  "We'll have none of this child's play here."

"I'm telling the truth," Harry said angrily.  "I don't remember."  He narrowed his eyes at Montere, daring him to call him a liar.  Montere called that dare.

"You have been tested for memory charms, have you not?  There is no other explanation for any sudden memory loss.  Unless there is something you wish to cover?"

"I have nothing to cover," Harry denied.  Montere rounded upon the boy fully.  Du Lac sighed and smacked the stand with her mallet, drowning out Montere's response.

"I will have order in this court," she demanded, "If either of you bicker once more, you will both be held in contempt of court.  Continue, Councilor."

"Yes, Your Honor," Montere said, "I apologize."  Harry mumbled an apology as well.  Du Lac nodded and bade them to continue.  Montere retracted his previous question since it was obvious Harry would not or could not answer.

The prosecutor returned to his desk and retrieved something else from his briefcase.  Holding it up to the court, he entered his second piece of evidence.  Approaching Harry's seat, he showed it to the boy.  "Can you tell what this is?"

"My glasses," Harry muttered, astounded.  Where had they been found?  He must have lost them when he…oh no!

"Your glasses," agreed Montere, "Found at the scene of the crime no less.  And what, if you remember, would such a thing be doing there when you were not?"

"I didn't say I wasn't at the Dursleys," Harry said, "I said I didn't remember."  Du Lac shot him a warning glance.  He tried to calm himself, knowing his very life was at stake.  "But no, Mr. Montere, I can't tell you why they were there."

Montere seemed untroubled by this answer and put away the glasses.  "I just have a few more questions, Harry.  Can you tell me about a man named Javen Derios?  I'm especially interested in some spells you learned under his care."

Remus could take this no longer, "Objection!  This has no relevance!"

"This goes to credibility, your Honor," Montere replied smoothly.

"Objection overruled.  But get to the point please, Montere."

"Yes, your Honor.  Now, Harry, is it true that while under Mr. Derios' care, you were taught dark spells?"

Now Harry saw it.  This was to be one of Montere's greatest weapons.  Every experience with Javen was going to be used and twisted against him.  He saw Remus give him an encouraging smile and allowed the slightest spark of warmth fill his hurting soul.

"Yes."

"And is it true that you performed these dark spells on your own and at command?"

"No."  Montere's smile faltered.

"May I remind you that you are under oath.  Please explain your answer."

This was it.  He had to tell the court about Javen.  He had to get passed his demons surrounding the young former hit-wizard.  If they all knew, Montere would lose his weapon.  He had to tell them.  The image of the dead Auror floated into his head and he visibly flinched.  He had to tell them.  But he couldn't do it; not even to save his life.

"I-I can't," he choked out.  "I didn't."

"Answer the question, Harry," the judge said.

"He doesn't need to, your Honor," Montere said, "I have no further questions."  He walked back to his bench smoothly and turned to Remus.  "Your witness."

Remus glared at the prosecutor and stepped up to the witness stand.  He didn't want to do this to the boy who meant so much to him.  This was tearing Harry apart and it was only the first day of the trial.  But he had to do it to save him.

He smiled at Harry and received a small smile in return.  Harry knew the smile was genuine unlike Montere's, and he was relieved to see a familiar face.

"Harry, tell me about an incident in your 4th year at Hogwarts.  Tell us about the Tri-wizard Tournament."

Harry knew this question would come up; they had discussed it earlier.  And at least it was an easier topic than the dreaded Javen, though he knew it was bound to reappear.

"I was chosen as a fourth competitor for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.  It was a ruse by one of Voldemort's supporters to kill me.  At the last task, a classmate and I were transported by a spy to Voldemort's rebirth—"

"Please use You-Know-Who," requested the judge after too many of the court's number flinched again.  She seemed indifferent to the Dark Lord's name.  Harry nodded.

"You-Know-Who was reborn and my friend was killed."  This was harder to get out than he thought, but he pressed forward.  "I was going to be killed too, and we dueled.  I managed to get away with Cedric's body.  The spy at Hogwarts was discovered to be Barty Crouch Jr."

"Did you sustain any injuries, Harry?"

"Yes, many."

"Did You-Know-Who offer you anything?"

"He told me that if I joined him, I could share in his conquest.  I could live forever and see my parents."

"And you turned it down?"

"Of course."

"Objection!" cried Montere finally, "This has nothing to do with this case."

"Objection sustained," agreed the judge.  She looked down at Remus, "Please explain your motive for bringing up events over a year old."

He nodded, "You-Know-Who offered Harry many things if he would only join his cause.  Why should Harry cross into the Dark Arts now when he has fought against them for so long and suffered through so much?"

"There is no evidence that You-Know-Who is even alive let alone risen!" cried Montere, "The boy is a liar!"

"He is not!" Remus returned, his eyes blazing.

"That is enough!" boomed Du Lac, "I will have order in my courtroom or I will arrest every last one of you!  Mr. Lupin, would you please get on with your questions?"

"Yes, your Honor.  Harry, did the Dursleys abuse you?"

"No.  Not quite."

"What do you mean, not quite?"

  
"They didn't hit me.  I was just…neglected."

"Would you have any reason to wish harm on the Dursleys now that you were away from them?"

"No."

"And when the Dursleys wanted to reclaim you into their custody?"

Harry faltered again.  Why couldn't he remember that night?!  How could he testify in his own behalf if he couldn't even remember what happened?  Remus saw the sudden look of fear in the boy's eyes as Harry failed to answer.  Frowning, he tried to rephrase the question.

"Did you want to see the Dursleys dead?"

"No, I don't think I did.  They didn't deserve to die the way they did."  Even Harry winced at his own words.  They did not come out the way he intended.  This testimony was becoming worse and worse by the minute.  He could not continue this much longer.

Remus groaned inwardly.  This was getting them nowhere.  The boy was becoming nearly frantic in his seat.  The confusion and fear was mounting.  This had to end, like it or not.

"I have no further questions, your Honor," he said and stepped away from the witness stand.  The judge let Harry return to his seat at Remus' side soon after.

The werewolf took in the boy's stature and mentally sighed.  That did not help their case at all.  Any more slip-ups and the case would be lost.  Why oh why did Harry freeze up like he did?  They had discussed it over and over and still he faltered and stumbled exactly where he shouldn't.  He spared a glance at Padfoot.  His friend had a strange look on his face that did not tell Remus what he was thinking.  That look frightened him.

"Harry, do you want me to call a recess?" asked Remus quietly as Montere prepared to call his next witness.  The boy shook his head slowly, wishing for whatever reason to stay and endure it.  Remus bowed to his wishes and remained silent.

Montere stood and called forth his next witness.  "Mr. Ollivander, would you mind taking the stand for me?"

The aged wand maker walked up to the witness stand like one to his own funeral.  He was obviously fond of the boy and would not wish anything like this upon him.  However, he had to do what must be done.  He did not look at Harry as he took his oath of truthfulness, nor did he look at him as he gave his testimony.

Montere retrieved another item, evidence piece number 3.  Harry saw the item and sank lower into his seat.  This did not go unnoticed by anyone in the court; jury, Remus, and Padfoot included.

The prosecutor held up the wand for all to see.  It was inside a plastic bag so none could contaminate it.  Dried blood still marred the beautiful wood, blood that was not the owner's.

"Mr. Ollivander, would you please state your occupation?"

"I am a maker and seller of wands in Diagon Alley."

"And do you consider yourself an expert on wands?"

"Yes."

"I have heard you know every wand you have ever sold?"

"That is correct.  Yours, Mr. Montere, I believe was 9 inches, flimsy, made of maple and a strand of manticore hair.  Excellent for dueling."

Montere did not grace this with a reply, but took out Harry's wand with a pair of rubber gloves.  He instructed the wand maker to put on a pair as well and placed it in his hands.  "Can you tell me who's wand this is?"

"Certainly, Mr. Montere," replied Ollivander gravely, "This belongs to Harry Potter."

The courtroom broke out in whispers and Du Lac had to rap with her mallet a few times to regain order.  Montere didn't so much as flinch.  "Indeed."  He handed a sheet of paper with a group of fingerprints on it.  "This is a set of fingerprints.  One is a set of the fingerprints found in the Dursleys' home with their blood on them.  Another is a set of the bloody fingerprints found on the wand and dated to the time of the attack.  The last set is of Mr. Black's taken after he was arrested.  Tell me, is there any difference in them?"

"No," Mr. Ollivander said reluctantly, trying to find any difference in the marks.  There were none.  "They are identical."

"There is a spell in which two wands are used to regurgitate spells.  Can you explain this spell to the court, please?"

"It takes brother wands to create this spell.  When the owners force them to duel, Priori Incantetum takes place.  One of the wands forces the other to regurgitate its previous spells, starting with the most recent."

"Would a murder appear during such an experiment?"

"Certainly."

"And where can a brother wand to Mr. Black's be found?"

"There was only one brother to Harry's wand," said Mr. Ollivander, a look of sorrow entering his voice as he spoke his next words.  "The only other belonged to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."

Even Montere did a double take at this.  He had expected to test the wand for the Unforgivable Curses.  Instead he had unwittingly stumbled across this of all things.  The rest of the courtroom was in an uproar so that Du Lac had to shoot up loud bangs with her wand before order was restored.  By then, Montere had successfully composed himself.

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.  I have no further questions."  He nodded to Remus as he took his seat, "Your witness."

Remus stalked up to the wand maker, anger burning in his eyes.  But anger at what, not even the werewolf knew.

"Mr. Ollivander, you say that You-Know-Who has the only other brother to Harry's wand.  Would that connection necessarily have anything to do with Harry's turning to the Dark Arts?"

"No, Mr. Lupin," Ollivander said, glad to be of some help after all, "It has no basis whatsoever.  The wizard corrupts the wand, not the other way around."

"So the connection is coincidence?"

"Yes."  The wand maker decided not to voice his own personal beliefs on why the Dark Lord and the Boy Who Lived had identical wands.  Fate seemed to have more to do with it rather than coincidence.

"Can Priori Incantetum still be performed even without the other wand?"

"There is a form of it that can be done using only the one wand."

"Would the court allow this to take place?" Remus asked the judge.  She looked over to the interested jurors and nodded to him.  She too was fascinated at this point.  Even Harry looked up to his new godfather.  Remus was taking an awful big step with this experiment; to place so much trust in the boy when he himself was not so sure was touching.

"Mr. Ollivander, would you please demonstrate this with Harry's wand?"

"Of course."  He rolled up his sleeves and took up the wand again from its resting place on the bag.  "_Priori Incantetum!"_

The small shadow of a light drifted through the wand.  Lumos.

"_Priori Incantetum!"_

The form of an unlocked door.  Alohomora.

"_Priori Incantetum!"_

A block for a spell.

An anti-animagi spell.

Another block.

This time a Stunner.

Finally, three small shadows wafted in the air before disappearing.  Harry closed his eyes and choked back a dry sob.  The courtroom was silent.  Sirius dropped his face into his hands.  Remus' pale face dropped and filled with the deepest grief before setting back into his stoic persona.  Mr. Ollivander dropped the wand as though it were on fire.

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.  I have no more questions."

End Part 4

Hides from angry readers.  I'm sorry!  I'm sorry!  I know I'm evil.  Just remember, if you kill me, you'll never find out what happens.  Sorry this took so long, I had technical difficulties.  I had a duo practice with my sister for dance and somehow managed to break my hand!  I am currently writing this one handed and it takes a while.  Not to mention the writer's block I just got over didn't feel like moving.  Anyway, here it is.

We'll have more Rob action coming up.  I promise.  As much as no one seems to like him, you'll see how important he is later on.  Oh, and the rest of this story is not a trial.  Far from it.  This should only last another chapter or so. Then the verdict and then…well…more.  ^_^

Thanks a lot Relle for the help! You're the best!

And now…for the responses!

Nicky:  I can't tell you that, sorry. : )  If I told you what really happened, you wouldn't need to read anymore.

Umr:  Thanks!

Relle:  You know for a fact I have more than 2 mistakes!  By the way, you're the best!  Don't forget to send me your stuff to BETA!

Katie:  Hmm…interesting points. But I am sworn to secrecy.  Everyone, read her review, she may have something there…then again, she may not. *ducks *.

Black Panther:  Thanks!  I will proceed right on to your story with glee.

Brit Brat Butterfly:  #1.  Javen't body was recovered, and it is his real body.  #2.  No to look-alike theory, but warm on the Javen/Rob connection thing.

Elektra:  I'm seeing a lot of you lately.  Thank you soooo much for taking an interest in my work.  I appreciate your thought out and supportive comments.  So far, you are the closest with the theories.  Oh, and you asked about SGNG being and AU.  As of right now, I have a third story planned for this series (and the last one as it's a trilogy).  It is a prequel to SGNG focusing mainly on Javen, his life, and why he is the way he is.  In it, I will explain why I enter SGNG with such a big event, Sirius' acquittal.  However, since I know J.K. Rowling will not do things my way in her next book (probably a good thing), it will become AU the moment HP: OoP comes out.


	5. Some Blindfolded Angel

A/N: Yeah!  My cast is off!  My hand still hurts like you wouldn't believe, but at leads my WPM are up!  A word about an issue in this story: I refer to Sirius as Harry's 'father' and sacrilegiously extend Harry's last name.  Now, people usually don't have an issue over Remus being the godfather, but I can see why they might be uptight over this parental role.  

Now let me explain.  My aunt remarried after uncle #1 messed himself up.  She automatically took my new uncle's name.  However, my little cousin (whose hair could rival any Weasley) was still known by her real father's name until a formal adoption paper could be drawn up.  He was her legal guardian, but not her father.  When he formally adopted her, she had to take his last name and only then was he her father.

If Harry were to be adopted by Sirius, which I expect he would be, Sirius would be for all intents and purposes, his father.  In becoming Sirius' true son, Harry would have to take 'Black' as at least part of his last name.  If Sirius were to die, and Remus were to adopt Harry to extend his guardianship, Harry would be either Harold James Potter Black Lupin or simply Harold James Lupin, see?  Whew!  Let's keep Sirius alive and kicking, shall we?

Why do my Author Notes insist on being so long?  Sorry bout that, here's the next chapter.  Now you see why I say Harry is left on his alone without even his family.

Part 5: Some Blindfolded Angel

Remus did not look at Harry as he moved back to the defense table.  Mr. Ollivander was quick to sit down, away from the wand and the attention of the court.

Harry wished someone would do something, say something, anything.  The deafening silence was driving him mad.  The only sound he had heard since the 3 shimmering shadows of the Dursleys floated from the wand was his father's sharp intake of breath.  Now, he would prefer anything to the silence, be it his father's screaming or Voldemort bursting through the doors.

Remus leaned over and gently touched his back, "Harry, if you cannot continue, let me know.  We can do this when you are better rested."

Harry nearly argued, but looking into the werewolf's gentle gray eyes, thought better of it.  He could not think straight and he doubted Remus was doing so well either.  The full moon had only been a few days ago after all, and he had been working non-stop with Harry and the Ministry since this whole circus began.

He nodded to Remus, "I think we both need a rest."

Remus smiled slightly, his slate eyes strangely cut off from the world, and nodded.  He stood up before Montere could call his next witness.  "Your Honor, I request a 5 hour recess.  Harry is not feeling well.  He is not used to being held in Azkaban."  The last part was said in a tone as cynical as he could politely make it.  Du Lac granted the request saying that the whole court needed some time as well.

As everyone else stood to leave, Harry was sharply reminded of his situation with a warning jab by a nearby Orc.  The filthy creature glared at him, daring him to try anything.  Remus stood over the goblin-like guardsman.

"I want to talk to him alone if you don't mind," he said firmly.

The brown creature shook his head.  "We doin our job, wolf.  We havin our orda an we cana do nuthin fer ya.  Th Elfie cumin wit us to Azk'ban tillin th trial startin agin.  Ifin yeh wanna cumin wit us, yeh pleasin ta do so.  But Elfie cumin wit us."

"Not back there," snapped Sirius harshly, startling Remus and Harry.  His bright blue eyes glared at the Orc with such malice that even the Orc took a step back.  "You're not bringing him there again."

The Orc stared at the ex-convict for a moment.  Finally, realization came into his large green eyes.  "I'n see yeh afore.  Yeh th Black Elfie wh' killed a' dem dose en th street.  Yeh hard'n ta break.  I rememba yeh well."

"You'll not have him, Orc," he hissed, ignoring the Orc's words, "Not like you had me."

"Yeh'n th Da' o th Elfie, no?  Lemme tell yeh now, Black'un.  I donna care wha yeh think; yeh always 'Elfie' ta me.  He cumin an no yeh.  No'un bu' th wolf cumin ta see th Elfie till da trial ova.  Mi'stry ordas."

With that, he nodded to the Dementors who drove Harry away to the back room where there was a portkey waiting.  Remus put a hand on his friend's shoulder to keep him from following.  "The Orc is right, Padfoot," he said soothingly, "I am the only one who can have contact with him until the verdict is in."

"He needs me, Moony," hissed Sirius, absolutely furious, "He needs his father."

If the conditions were any less serious, Remus would have been amused by the fierce defensiveness of his friend.  Now though, he just wanted Sirius to calm himself.

"Are you deaf?  You can't see him.  I'll send him your love when I..."

"This is a set up," Sirius continued, rambling in his anger, "He could not have killed those Muggles.  They're going to put him away like they put me away."

"Sirius, get a grip!" the werewolf exclaimed shaking Sirius roughly, "Why would the Ministry want to send their bloody war symbol to Azkaban?  You saw the evidence the same as I did.  His wand committed murder.  How do you prove the owner didn't wield it when he claims not to remember?"

Icy blue fire stared into calm slate as Sirius redirected his anger.  "Don't you ever say that again!"

"Go home, Sirius," Remus said, ignoring the accusation, "You haven't slept in days.  Let me handle everything.  In the morning, you'll feel better."

"Remus is right, Sirius," soothed Professor McGonnagal from behind them.  Her eyes were overly bright, but she held herself as even as she ever did.  "There is little more you can do tonight.  A good night's rest may do more than you think."

"But Professor, I cannot leave him here…"

"This is not a request, Sirius," she responded, "I may not be your teacher any more, but I'd like to think I still hold some sway over you.  You must leave him be.  Remus will take care of it."

"How can you defend someone if you don't even believe in them?" growled Sirius staring at Remus who blushed slightly and looked down.  "He needs someone who believes him.  Who'll listen."

"Sometimes we must do what we think we cannot," the aging professor said.  "You must trust in Remus and in the system.  They will not do to Harry what they did to you.  Now come.  I'll Apparate you to your house.  I fear you may splinch yourself."

With that, she rather forcibly led him away, leaving Remus alone in the courtroom save for one lone figure who drew up behind him.  Dumbledore's eyes held a great sadness in their depths and he bent as though age had suddenly come upon him.

"Do not lose faith, Remus," he said gently.  "There may yet be hope left.  After all, you were the best Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts that I've had in a long time.  If you cannot find a Dark wizard, then no one can."

"I'm just afraid of what I will find if I find the truth," Remus admitted, not looking at the Headmaster.  His eyes were glued to the doors where he had watched his best friend leave, devoid of all hope.

"Do not be afraid.  Fear has no place in a courtroom.  Only the guilty need fear.  You remember the conversation we had earlier?"

How could he forget?  "Of course, Headmaster.  But, it still seems so impossible to me.  How can I tell them?"

"You cannot!" the Headmaster insisted fiercely, "Not if we want to succeed.  Not if our suspicions are correct."

"I cannot hurt Harry any longer, Sir," Remus said turning to face Dumbledore.  His voice had an edge of pleading to it.  "Do not make me hurt him further."

"It must be done, Remus.  If we are correct, then a dark wizard will be caught and punished for murder, among other things."

"And if we are not correct?  What then?"

Dumbledore's eyes grew sadder still and his throat grew oddly rough with emotion.  "Then a dark wizard will be sentenced and punished for murder…among other things.  You cannot tell anyone, Remus.  Not even Sirius.  It would break his heart either way.  And we need him to play a role yet in this."

*          *            *

After the first week of the trial, Sirius stopped coming.  He couldn't watch this anymore; the horrible evidence brought up against his son, and Remus' strong, yet comparably weaker retorts made him sick.  Countless witnesses were brought up before the court, the professors from school, classmates, Hagrid.  And all their words were twisted to show Harry as unstable and dangerous; thrilling in death-defying acts and never ceasing to strut around as though the rules didn't apply to him.

It was Snape's testimony that surprised him the most, actually.  He had not seen him since his imprisonment at the Riddle House and then he had wanted to tear out his throat.  Snape left him.  Left him to the mercy that Wormtail could never have; left him to the whim of the Dark Lord, mad with his lust for power.  And all so his cover wouldn't be blown.  He had expected nothing but condemnation for Harry as well.  What was said, though was quite the opposite.

He had defended him!  Or at least, he told the truth and did not allow his words to be twisted.  He told the court that yes, Harry was in the habit of finding trouble, but that trouble usually found him first.  The attack of Javen and the two deaths to follow were not his fault and neither was the death of Cedric Diggory.  Therefore, they had no reason to attack Harry as they did in the deaths of the Dursleys.  Sirius had not been in attendance during this testimony, but Remus told him about it.  The entire room was stunned as though Voldemort had admitted to liking pink bunnies and fluffy pillows.  Even Harry, in his quickly deteriorating state, snapped out of his daze.

However, Sirius knew what Remus would not admit.  He knew they were losing terribly.  Remus just did not have the experience needed to pull this defense off.  Montere had the right evidence and the wits to manipulate them.  If only that ruddy wand…

The wand.  Sirius paused in his reverie.  It was the first day of testimony that gave Montere the head start.  And that wand.  Everything revolved around it.  Remus was right.  The wand had committed murder.

The distraught father looked at the clock; it was nearly after midnight.  How much longer would it be before he passed out from exhaustion?  Hopefully not too much longer; his mind was drifting in directions he never wanted to go.

He could not stop thinking about all that evidence.  Clearly Harry was at the Dursleys the night they died.  He could not deny that any longer.  Clearly he was found wandering the streets of Privet Drive when he was picked up, claiming not to remember a thing.  Clearly his wand committed murder.  Remus was right when he said that the evidence was too big to ignore and that the Ministry could never implicate their own war symbol.  He believed the boy guilty, of that Sirius was sure.  But did Sirius?

No, he berated himself.  How could you think that about your own son?  Only a very sick and disturbed person would…Then he stopped.  Javen Derios.  Derios had taken his son and tried to mold him into the perfect dark wizard.  He had invaded his mind, abused him in so many ways.  Even when he thought Harry was over that particular barrier, the boy was still not the same.  But how could anyone be?  Perhaps that was one horror too many.

Sirius could never understand what Harry had gone through, he had never been used like that.  He had experienced other horrors, yes, but he had been older and better able to deal with them.  And even then he almost didn't get over some.  Perhaps Harry had been too young and driven too fast.  And to be faced with that god-forsaken cupboard again would be unbearable.  He would do anything to avoid it…

Tears sprang to Sirius' eyes and he did not have the strength anymore to brush them away.  He cried a lot that night as events replayed themselves through his closed eyelids and he could no longer deny that which was painfully obvious.  Indeed, he cried longer than he ever thought possible.  And when Remus went over to make sure Sirius was indeed sleeping, a lone tear was still sliding down the exhausted Sirius' cheek as he slept sideways in his overstuffed chair.

*          *            *

1 month later

"Harold James Potter Black," Du Lac said grimly, "Stand up to receive your verdict.  But first, do you have any final words to add to your closing statement?"

Numbly, Harry did as he was told and stood.  The jury had taken only an hour to come to a conclusion about his guilt or innocence and none had looked at him when they re-entered the courtroom.  Not a very reassuring sign.

To his side stood Remus.  He had stayed by Harry the entire time, defended him as hard as he could, and for that, Harry was eternally grateful.  As long as he had his support, he felt he could take on anything; even if that support had been gradually waning throughout the trial.  He had given up nearly all hope on Sirius who was surprisingly present for the verdict.  It was like Sirius was trying to distance himself from the boy as much as he could without actually abandoning him.  When questioned, Remus only gave the boy a sad look and told him not to focus on that.  What he needed to focus on was the trial at hand and on his mental state while at Azkaban.  While his unreasoning fear of the Dementors, and now the Orcs, was no less than it ever was, he had learned how to live with it.  How to go on living without the fear of his sanity.  Even the court had to agree that Harry looked much more in control than when this hellish circus began.  He may have looked more secure, but inside, he was still quaking.

Harry took a deep breath and chose his words carefully.  "I know that the evidence against me is strong and that all you have from me is my word…but I don't know how else to stress my innocence.  The Dursleys were not my favorite people in the world, but I would never harm them.  They did take me in and they did not outright abuse me.  I wish I knew who did this so I could let my relatives rest in peace.  And it is my hope that the court will find and prosecute the killer despite what happens to me."  It was a futile and brave last gesture, but it was all he could do.  He did not harbor any illusions about what the jury's finding would be.  So all he could do was pray.

"Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict?" Du Lac asked the 12 witches and wizards.  The head of the jury, a stout balding wizard stepped forward.

"We have, your Honor.  We find the defendant, Harold James Potter Black, guilty on all charges of first degree murder against the family of Muggles named Dursley," the man announced dully.  The courtroom was silent except for Harry's thudding heart, which he fancied all could hear.  He felt suddenly sick, but could not move a muscle for the Orc's hot breath down his neck.

"And the sentence?"

"Life in Azkaban without chance of parole."  The man looked at Harry for the first time since leaving the courtroom to discuss his conviction.  His eyes burned into the boy's with tangible hatred and betrayal.  "And may he rot there."

Harry wavered on his feet slightly, but the strong grip of an impatient Orc kept him in check.  Du Lac nodded toward the Dementors and he was ushered out of the courtroom toward the portkey, which would take him back to his prison cell until the wizarding world could officially banish him and send him to Azkaban.

As he held onto the old glove, he looked over to Sirius who was staring at him with a blank expression.  Then he looked at Remus, at the Weasleys, at Hermione, Dumbledore, Hagrid…everyone he had grown to know and care about since his 11th birthday 4 years ago.  It seemed that everyone believed him to be guilty despite whatever past they had had with him.  And as the courtroom faded from view as the portkey took effect, Harry wondered if they weren't right…

*          *            *

Cornelius Fudge watched the boy disappear with a sneer on his face.  He always knew that boy would be trouble; he always had been a brat.  All that fame did something to his head, not to mention that run in with Javen a year ago, which would have completed the job.  And no one would listen to Fudge until it was too late.  No, they were too worried about poor abused Potter to pay attention.  The boy was dangerous.  He had killed two men in cold blood, but the rest of the wizarding world just swept it under the rug as accidents.  Now he had three more deaths to cover up and Dumbledore to deal with.  There would have to be a public banishment ceremony before the boy went to the higher security cells of Azkaban of course, and Dumbledore was sure to make some sort of fuss about it like he had been the entire time.

How could Dumbledore doubt Potter's guilt?  The evidence was right there, by Merlin!  Even the motive was quite clear: they had begun to fight for the custody of Harry once they heard he had piles of gold hidden away.  Rumor had it, the boy was not happy at all.  The trial should have ended weeks ago.  It was a waste of the busy Minister's time.  They should have locked the boy up in St. Mungo's long ago.

He stepped down from his seat and wandered into the crowd to see how much damage control he had to do.  It seemed not as bad as he expected.  Most of the people had known Harry and, while they were subdued terribly, they did not say a word to him about the trial.  They only stayed in their little clumps, talking in quiet, grieved tones.  The two little sidekicks of Potter were standing apart from their families crying together.

But Fudge was only concerned with one man in the room.  Sirius Black was currently being consoled by his werewolf friend as they headed out the door.  What a pair they make, Fudge thought sarcastically.  An untamed werewolf and an unstable godfather.

"Black," he called after him.

Sirius turned around to face the caller impatiently.  He wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep for a long, long time.  His eyes met the cold eyes of the Minister.  He tried to manage a glare like usual, but was unable.  Whatever hold the boy had on Black was gone, the Minister noted, and with it the fight in his eyes.

"Black, I have some things to discuss with you if you don't mind," Fudge said, smirking at his feeble attempt to hide any weaknesses from the Minister.  The toll this trial had taken on him was obvious.

"What is it now, Minister?" asked Remus icily.  "Isn't this enough?"

"I need to discuss the boy's banishment, wolf.  So if you don't mind…"

"It's okay, Remus," Sirius said softly, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I wanted to discuss this anyway."

Remus looked at Sirius for a moment, trying to determine how best to treat this situation.  "Are you sure?"

Sirius' eyes hardened into icy blue stones.  "Yes," he answered firmly, "I'm sure."

Remus nodded reluctantly, "Do you want me to wait for you?"

"Actually, if you don't mind," a new voice said, "I would like a word with you, Remus."

They turned to see Dumbledore who had just left the Weasleys' company.  Fudge hid his scowl behind a well-practiced politician face.  If he wouldn't be kicked out of office by the thousands of Dumbledore fans, he would remove him from that school.  He was just as dangerous as Potter was through his ignorance and naiveté.  Why was Fudge the only one who had an ounce of sense in this country?

Remus nodded at the Headmaster and followed him to a secluded corner of the courtroom while Sirius joined Fudge.  He looked back at Padfoot and sighed.  The man was in a fragile state now; why couldn't the Minister just leave him alone?  This trial had hurt him beyond words, it had hurt everyone who knew the boy, and Remus feared what Sirius would do.  Harry had been Sirius' salvation, his reason to go on living.  Now, that reason was dead as sure as if Harry had died.  He did not miss the sudden change in his friend during the trial and knew that Harry's guilt weighed heavily upon the new father's shoulders.  Yet even as his mind told Sirius that Harry was guilty, Remus could still see the sudden spark of defeat in his eyes as his heart was broken by the jury's harsh judgment.

Following the Headmaster to the back of the room, Remus wished that what they were about to do wouldn't just be the final breaking point for an already wounded boy.

*          *            *

Sirius couldn't help but shiver as he entered the old fortress of Azkaban.  He never thought in a million years that he would willingly set foot inside this prison again.  But it seemed that Fate had a number of surprises up her sleeve for him.  He knew that the only way to see his son was to enter the dark prison.  So enter he did.

Ignoring the dementors around him who seemed to recognize him and his strong, unbroken spirit, Sirius sat at a chair before a sheet of glass.  On the other side of the glass, he could see his godson being led in.

For a moment, Sirius allowed himself to forget everything that had happened so he could feel properly sorry for his son.  The boy had changed so much since he had last seen him.  Even after little over a month, Harry had lost way too much weight and a dead, haunted look was gleaming in his eyes; a look Sirius was more accustomed to seeing in the mirror than on the boy's face.  It broke Sirius' heart to see the suffering on a child too young to have to deal with this.  Sirius had been less than 10 years older than Harry was now when he first saw the other end of that glass.

"Sirius," croaked Harry when he was seated.  His dulled emerald eyes shone with hope, "Dad, is it you?"

The sweet anguish that filled Sirius' heart at that simple title nearly broke all his resolve.  "Yes, Harry," Sirius choked out, "It's me."

"I thought you wouldn't come for me," Harry said, nearly in tears, "They said you wouldn't.  And the dementors are so close…dad, please take me away from here.  I can't stand it.  I'll go mad if I stay here.  Take me with you.  I can't stay here for the rest of my life."

Sirius had thought so too.  He had wanted to die it was so bad; to die or lose his sanity.  Unable to drift into blissful madness, he had settled for suicide.  But even that sweet surrender was forbidden to him by the jail keepers.  Those were stories that he had never shared with anyone, including Remus.  But now he had to push all that aside to get the answer he longed for.

"Harry, did you kill those people?"  The hope and fear that lit up Harry's features suddenly dulled and he looked vaguely angry.  Or as though he wanted to be angry, but didn't have the strength.  Sirius pushed back his urge to comfort the boy.  "Harry, I need to know.  Tell me the truth."

"I don't know, alright?!" he exploded, tears streaming down his face, "I can hardly remember my own name in this place!  They set me up!  Just like they set you up!"

"Who set you up?"

"I don't know!!  Dad, please!  I'm innocent!  The dementors…"

"The dementors can wait, Harry.  Innocent?  How can you be innocent if you don't remember how your hands got to be covered in their blood, your wand filled with Dark curses?  This is no case of missing fingers and loud explosions and laughing lunatics.  Only of Dark Magic and its wielder.  Now tell me the truth!  Who killed the Dursleys?"

Harry stared at him for a long time, processing his words as he struggled to hold onto his sanity.  Finally, he broke down sobbing, not even caring what sort of appearance he was making anymore.  It was too much to handle.  The dementors, the Dursleys, his screaming mother, and now Sirius' anger.  It was too much.

"I did, ok?" he whispered defeated, "I did it.  I killed the Dursleys and the Auror and Javen and my parents and you and…oh god…I killed them."  He slumped down in his chair and for the first time in his life, he gave up.

"Did you, Harry?" asked Sirius in a softer tone now, "Did you kill the Dursleys?"

"I must have," answered Harry brokenly, "I don't remember, but I must have.  Oh, God, even you think I did it."

"I don't know what to think anymore," Sirius whispered to himself.  Then to Harry he said, "All I wanted was to make you happy.  To be the perfect father for you.  It seems I was living in a dream world."

Harry could not reply, but he shook his head fervently, begging Sirius to listen.

"I must be going, Harry," he stood up abruptly.  At the door, however, he turned and looked back.  His heart wept and wailed at him not to leave the son of his heart behind.  He could not abandon Harry while they both still lived as his own father had done.  Castor Black had loved his son like no other, yet he was an Auror, and his one true love was with the Ministry.  He had gone to visit the young and frightened Sirius only once, basically telling his only child that while his mother Victoria would never give up on him, Castor had nonetheless cast Sirius from the family.  

And as Sirius gazed upon the boy, he saw himself 13 years ago, looking at the unforgiving father.  Yet he could not stop the words that came from his mouth.

"I have given custody of you over to the Minister.  You are no longer my son and I have no claim on you.  I cannot promise to visit again, because I don't plan to.  And I cannot wish you well in your life, because I'm leaving you to the dementors.  All I can say is…well…I loved you Harry.  I hope you know that."

"And I loved you.  I still do, dad.  That's what family's for, right?  To love one another despite everything?"

"I don't have a family, Harry.  And neither do you."

With those words, meant to hurt or anger Harry so he wouldn't be looked at with such devotion by those brilliant green eyes, Sirius left.  The intention did not had the desired effect, yet the boy's reckless sobs haunted him for years to come.  A strange thought came unbidden to his mind during the lonely flight home on his motorcycle.

'I promised that I'd never make him cry.'

End Part 5

And now…some responses!

Dark Phoenix:  I'm sorry I've been so bad about updating.  I'll have you know that I'm working on Part 7 right now! ^_^  I'm so glad you like it!

A. Dee:  Thanks for your critique!  Does it really flow nicely?  I always thought it was choppy and random.  I'm sorry about the cliffie, but hey, the story writes itself… most of the time anyway.

Kay:  Yes, poor Harry, * evil cackles*

Black Panther:  Oh, what can I say to you?  You are the most supportive person ever! *Hugs *  I'm so sorry you got a detention.  You tell that evil teacher that I am most displeased!!!  I love your stuff by the way, don't stop writing!  I keep up with it as often as I can.  *laughs * I think I got your message loud and clear.  I'm working on Part 7 as I'm typing this.  Have no fear, I won't be so evil again.

Relle: I'm having trouble with my e-mail.  It seems you aren't getting my e-mails lately.  I can receive it, but for some reason I can't send.  Um, I'm having trouble with your RPG.  It won't let me in because it doesn't think I'm a member.  Can you help?


	6. Close Every Door To Me

This chapter is dedicated to Black Panther and Dark Phoenix, who gave me good kicks in the butt when I needed it.  Thanks a lot guys, I hope this is to your satisfaction. ^_^

I have a little speech/apology/explanation thing at the end that I would like my readers to see.  I think I owe you guys an explanation.

J Palmgren: I have a response for your review at the end of the chapter in case you don't get through the whole thing.  I wish you wouldn't give up on my story, but I can't stop you.

Part 6: Close Every Door to Me

The room where the intended banishment was to take place was like any other room.  It had its fireplace in case of swift travel, and a desk filled with unfinished paperwork.  The walls were littered with pictures of different people and places.  Some held degrees the owner had earned, or honors they had been bestowed with.  A few candles were lit, no more so than was necessary and no less.

Such a room would usually be considered highly improper for a magical banishment.  These ceremonies were for the most heinous of criminals and were to evict them from their place in the wizarding world.  Such ceremonies were usually public, to show would-be offenders the penalty of such horrible crimes.

However, this one banishment ceremony held precedence over tradition.  It would have brought together every witch, wizard, and magical creature in the entire world.  Such publicity was both improper, and impossible to manage.  Therefore, the simple procedure was to be carried out in a small, private office where no one but the witnesses would be able to see.

The Minister had been more than eager to have the banishment ceremony in his very own office.  Legally, all a banishment ceremony needed was him, the criminal, guards, a banisher, and a few witnesses.  Thankfully, all were present.

The only sound in the office was the quiet voice of the official banisher as he read from an old sheet of parchment.  His voice was soft and soothing to hear, yet its message was filled with sorrow and the most painful of separations.

"…You are therefore banished from all things magical.  You are never to touch a wand again or utter a single spell.  You are sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban.  You are now banished from the entire magical world."  The words meant to damn Harry hit their intended mark and the boy flinched as though he were physically struck.

The banisher, the stout wizard who was the foreman of the jury, finished the reading at last.  He did not look at the boy he was banishing for he feared he might crack if he did.  He was not sorry for finding the boy guilty, indeed he felt personally betrayed despite his vow to remain impartial.  Harry was supposed to be the symbol of hope for the younger generation.  The wizard had grown up in a world of fear and it was because of the Boy Who Lived that his children were not locked away in a safehouse.  To betray his kinsmen by becoming that which he defeated was unforgivable.  He felt sorry that he was sentencing a boy to life in prison, when one of his sons was only 2 years younger than Harry.  But it had to be done.

He handed a wand around the circle of witnesses and officials, each person silently or verbally renouncing Harry's name as anything to do with their world.  Sirius' voice shook as he uttered the phrase, but he managed to choke his way through it.  Finally, the wand landed in the hands of the Minister of Magic himself.

Fudge could not be considered an evil being.  Even many of his opponents, including Dumbledore, could never call him malicious.  He did his job with the greatest amount of respectability, and if it weren't for his foolish pride, he could be considered one of the century's greatest wizards.  However, it still gave the Minister a small amount of satisfaction to hold the magical object in his hands and watch the boy in front of him cringe.  This boy had been nothing but trouble from the start, and it would give him great pleasure to see him locked away where he could harm no one else.  And it gave him no small amount of justification to hear the boy's soft cry of despair as the wand was snapped in two and the banishment made complete.

Of course, the boy could not know this, but the Minister would never snap a criminal's real wand.  It could be purged of its evil spells and resold as used.  Or, if a case were especially trying or hard, they would keep it in one of the Ministry's warehouses in case of future need.  The snapped wand was no more than an enchanted piece of carved wood; designed to react to being broken, but no more magical than that.

With the last formality met, the Ministry could now wipe his hands clean of the boy.  He signed away his custody to the officials of Azkaban, and in doing so, he signed away the boy's very life, mind, and soul.

Sirius watched stonily as Harry was led out of his life for the last time.  Outside, he was the perfect image of calm other than his blunder earlier.  Moony could see his anxiety, of course, but he was the only one.  Inside, though, he was dying.  Despite everything.  Despite all that Harry did or did not do, Sirius still loved him.  He knew he always would.  And that thought haunted him like no other.

He felt the Minister's eyes on him as he watched Harry being led out.  His conversation with Fudge still left him burning.  The Minister was fake and foolish.  All he cared about was his status.  Such was the case months before when he and Remus were alone in their search for Javen and Harry.  How had things gotten so bad that he was now taking orders from the Minister?

He had not given up Harry by choice.  Once guilt was ascertained, Fudge had come to Sirius to gain custody of Harry.  It was to make things easier, he had said.  Castor had done the same with Sirius all those years ago, it was a common action for underage prisoners.  The government needed to take custody of them in order to put them away.  But it had been so hard for Sirius to sign that parchment.  He had no choice.  Of that, he could still claim.

*          *            *

As a child, Harry never had to know what Azkaban really was.  Why it was so feared and so hated by all who came into contact with it.  He had heard stories, of course, from his friends and teachers.  He had heard how your mind is left to rot and you are nothing but a shell in the end.  However, he did not know much that another would have.  Sirius would never describe to him what hell he had gone through.  How those who were cursed with a strong mind that rotted slower than the others would slice themselves open with their own fingernails in desperation.  He could not know these things, yet he was now being forced to learn quickly and adapt.

Being led through the inner sanctum of the prison, Harry realized at last what hell truly was.  The lower levels had seemed like endless torture with no end in sight.  It was not until Harry had to move to his new cell that he realized how wrong that was.

The dementors' icy grips were tight and pained him terribly.  Their frigid breath on his neck was a constant enemy trying to reach his soul.  He did not know how he forced himself to walk on, yet he did.  He did not have anywhere to go anyway.  Was it not better to surrender to them and suffer insanity than to remember the pain he left behind? 

A claw-like hand shot through the cold steel bars, seizing Harry's oversized prison robes.  Jerking Harry to him, the prisoner sneered in his face.  A pang of fear shot through the boy as he looked into the prisoner's eyes.  They were large and bulbous, certainly much too large to belong in such a long gaunt face.  But what frightened him the most was the stare he received.  Blank, his eyes were, and unfocused.  Milky-glazed eyes burned wildly into Harry, not seeing him, but some long ago forgotten memory.

"We must be patient, my lord," the prisoner cackled, his scruffy beard absorbing the spittle.  "For the king's daughter is yet among the flowers, and the sun is not dancing on the child's grave.  Be patient, Lord Saul, I will come to thee by the moonlight!"

The dementors tore Harry from the mad prisoner's clutches.  One leered down to the prisoner, hissing softly as though a mother hushing her child goodnight.  The prisoner's glazed sapphire eyes widened larger, if it were even possible, and he scurried to the far side of the wall, whimpering.  Harry knew how he felt.

The dementors placed him in the cell next to the whimpering prisoner, much to Harry's dismay.  He did not want to be anywhere near that man, or his mad mutterings.  Yet, he had little choice in the matter.  He stumbled to the other end of his cell, trying to put as much distance as possible between him and the dementors.  The creatures hissed in laughter and glided away to their post at the door.

Harry looked fearfully around him.  The mad, shining eyes of the people around him made him want to cry out, but the fear made his throat like dust and he could only hack and cough.  He backed away into the wall, trying to push away the sounds of his parents dying over and over to the delight of Voldemort.  He felt as though the mad people around him were focusing only on him, watching him in mute fascination.  Their eyes shone eerily in the moonlight, making them appear as animals rather than humans.

In his fear, Harry came across a faint, but familiar smell.  It was musty and old, but it pulled at his memory, crying out to him to be remembered.  Kneeling down by the straw 'bed', he could feel old footprints in the decades old dust and dirt.  No, not footprints.  Pawprints.  They were the pawprints of a very large dog.  Padfoot.  This was Padfoot's old cell.

_//"All I wanted was to make you happy.//_

_//"Innocent?  How can you be innocent if you don't remember how your hands got to be covered in their blood, your wand filled with Dark curses?  No, Harry.  This is no case of missing fingers and loud explosions and laughing lunatics.  Only of Dark Magic.  And its wielder."//_

Harry curled up in the straw bed fearful of his new surroundings.  The scent of his father floated around teasingly, reminding him of all he lost.  His only family hated him and he may as well die for all Sirius cared.  Harry christened his first night in Azkaban with tears; new tears upon the stains of older ones.  For he could not know how similar he was to Sirius Black in that moment, crying his heart out on that cold stone floor, yearning for his father to take back those hateful words.

_//"Petunia, run!  He's mad!"//_

*          *            *

A sharp clanging on the steel bars jolted Harry awake.  He bolted upright, still trying to remained curled up in his defensive ball.  He eyes, aching from crying so much, refused to focus properly.  Then he remembered his lack of glasses and gave up trying.

"Kid!  Hey, kid!"

He turned toward the sound, wondering if he had gone mad already, for he surely couldn't have heard another voice with him in the cell.  Yet, if it was an illusion brought on by madness, it was a very realistic one.  It would not let him sleep, but kept shaking him and clanging on the bars.

"Good, you're up," The 'illusion' said.  He sat back against the bars as though the madness around him had no effect.  "I thought you were dead for a minute.  Was gonna have the Orcs get rid of your carcass."

"Who are you?" asked Harry cautiously.  He was now certain that this man was no illusion, but then that meant he was enclosed with one of the wizarding world's worst of criminals.

"Good," the mysterious man barked in laughter, "You're not crazy either.  That was the other thing I was worried about.  Name's Bouche.  Bren Bouche.  And let me guess, kid.  You're that Harry Potter."

Bren had an accent that was easy enough to place.  He was obviously American, but then, why was he in a British prison?

"I-well… yeah, I'm him.  Why are you…"

"Here?  Easy, kid.  Your dad, or godfather, or whatever you're calling him these days is responsible for these accommodations.  Him and that blasted Unspeakable!"  His eyes narrowed in anger and he struck the cell bars.  Then, just as easily as he had drifted into anger, he relaxed again.  "Apparently, my crimes are so 'heinous and unthinkable' that I got a first class ticket to Azkaban.  But then…I suppose it could be worse."

Worse?  Harry didn't know how life was in the U.S., but whatever it was, he doubted it could be worse than Azkaban.  Maybe this guy was the one who was unhinged.

"I'd rather be here, in a freaking madhouse, than out there as a sniveling coward.  I'm proud to be here for my Master."

"You're a Death Eater," muttered Harry, trying not to let his fear betray him.  Bren chuckled humorously as though he had made a comment on the weather.

"Don't look so surprised, kid.  I bet you've seen more than one in your time.  Never seen one this close up before?"

"N-not really, no."

Bren smiled, "Well, if we're gonna be roommates for the time bein, let's get a few things straight.  I ain't gonna hurt you for the simple fact that, frankly, you amuse me.  And you ain't nuts.  That's a plus.  And who knows?  With you bein here, maybe I can show you how life should really be lived.  Who your Master really is."

"I'd rather go to Hell than join the Death Eaters," Harry said firmly.  The first straight answer he had been able to give in weeks.  Bren, however, was unfazed and unimpressed.

He barked another laugh, similar to the dog-like laugh of his father.  "Well, don't tell anyone I said this but… rumor has it, this is Hell, kid.  You're already there, so it don't matter."

"It matters to me."

Bren shrugged, leaning back against the bars, oblivious to the glazed stares around him.  "Have it your way.  I said I wouldn't bother you, didn't I?"

Harry decided not to grace that with a remark, so he settled back down to his straw 'bed'.  He noted that Bren had one as well, only it was closer to the cell door than his.  Sirius had never wanted to discuss Azkaban at all in great detail.  But what Harry did know was all the prisoners, be they young or old, lost their minds eventually.  The newer ones were stronger at first, more full of themselves, harder to break.  In groups they took much longer to go 'quiet' as he often spoke of it.  Especially if their horrid crimes were ones they were proud of.  But they all went silent in the end.  Harry knew the chances were slim that the American would keep his mind, but the small conversation with the criminal had made the pain seem duller if only for a few moments.  

If Bren were to join his predecessors in their madness, it would surely draw Harry in as well.  Bren's strong mind was one that could be drawn upon for strength in times of need.  It didn't matter at this point who Bren was or who it was he stood for.  They were all brothers here.  Sirius himself had said so about the prison.  Murderers, Death Eaters, rapists, thieves, innocent teenagers… all were brothers in this hellish prison.  Each fate was the same, each prisoner was treated, dressed, and fed the same.  If it were not such a horrid place, it would be a good place of learning for the world.  Perhaps all one needed to do was spend an extended period of time in such a place to learn the true meaning of equality.

He drifted back into sleep wondering about this new paradox he had discovered in the hated halls of Azkaban.  Hermione would enjoy such a puzzle.  No!  Don't think about her!  If you think about her, you'll think of the great times you had together.  Keep your thoughts dark and miserable.  Think of sadness.  Think of Sirius.

Only 4 months ago and Harry would have done anything to be able to think of Sirius.  But that was forbidden to him.  Now, it was the only thing that kept him alive.  Thinking of Sirius and his hateful words was something the dementors could never take away.

*          *            *

_//Never before had the Dursley household been so quiet.  It had been one thing when Harry still lived at 4 Privet Drive and odd occurrences were commonplace. But to see the boy, furious like they had never seen him, at their doorstep, they didn't know what to think._

_Now they all sat in the living room, oblivious to the fact that they were so frightened of a mere child.  Harry was pacing back and forth, debating with them angrily, when suddenly a loud explosion ripped through the house.  Petunia's expensive china shattered and flew across the room, imbedding themselves into whatever soft object they hit.  Pieces of furniture imploded upon themselves._

_Without thinking, Harry ripped out his wand, anger and fear making his instincts strong and his magic particularly powerful.  Catching his first glimpse of the attacker, he shouted out strings of incantations, some still imbedded in his memory from past 'dueling lessons' with Javen.  And for the second time in his life, the power flowed through him with an ease that would put an Auror to shame._

_The attacker was caught offguard, and did not have the skill to keep up with such attacks.  So, choosing a different tactic, the intruder discovered 3 other targets to keep the young wizard busy enough for the work to be completed...//****_

*          *            *

Consciousness came and went for Harry in the prison walls.  Though he was next to a window, day and night held little more significance for him other than it could give him a rough idea as to mealtimes and trips to the 'latrine pits'.  As always the sane, who were the only ones allowed out of their cell for any reason, were accompanied by an Orc or dementor.

Orcs were not as affected by the dementors because of their naturally irritable and sour minds.  Thus they made up much of the island's small workforce. A human employee was a rare occurrence, and were you to find one sane enough to speak with, you would find the reasons behind their employment even more unpleasant.  

But it was the Orc that gave Azkaban the extra shiver down your spine when you said it.  They let the inmates know who was the God of their lives.  They let you know who would live, who would die, and who was merely born to suffer.  It was not in their interests or nature to physically torture their prisoners, so Harry had no fear of that.  They were just simply cruel, breaking spirits as though they were bodies.  Dementors carried fear, Orcs carried anger.

Therefore, it was with great trepidation that Harry looked up.  Footsteps down the halls were not good things to hear.  Dementors made no sound as they made their way through the corridors, and new prisoners were rare, but noisy.  Only Orcs moved with such decisive gaits.  Harry closed his eyes and curled up in ball.  Perhaps if they thought him sleeping, they wouldn't bother him this time.  Bren seemed to take no notice.  He had drifted into an eerie humming 2 days ago.  It was hard to snap him from it, but from the still fierce look in Bren's deep blue eyes, Harry knew he was not all gone.

"Dis dem dere," an Orc announced, "Two o de Elfies yeh wanted."

"Thank you," another voice said with an accent, "I will call for you when I need you."

"We stay," another Orc voice argued, "No'uns lef' alone 'ere."

"Don't you trust me?" the softer voice said amused.

"We dona trust us'ns le'lone yeh Yanks.  We dona trust yeh fer nuthin."

"Very well," the voice conceded, "But I wish to speak with them privately.  Stand over there where you can see me."

Apparently the Orcs agreed, for their heavy clawed feet stomped away.

"I hope you find your stay pleasant, Bren," the voice said in a silky smooth voice.  The accented voice had an edge to it that betrayed his sarcasm.  Bren made no reply, but continued to hum.

Curiosity finally getting the better of him, Harry pushed his upper body up with his hands to see the newcomer.  The man was as tall as Sirius, but had long sandy hair tied back in a low ponytail.  His eyes were large and brown and filled with warmth.  The man was dressed in robes so black they shimmered blue in the cloudy daylight.

"Hello, Harry," the man said softly, almost fearfully.

"Hello," he replied just as timidly, "Who are you?"

The man smiled softly, a smile of relief, "I was afraid you were already gone.  The Orcs told me you were very nearly broken."

"No, sir.  Not yet."

"That's good."  He looked around the prison as if seeing it for the first time.  The mad prisoner that had 'greeted' Harry reached through his bars for the man's robes.  The man smoothly stepped beyond his reach and looked back at Harry.  "I'll give to the British, they know how to keep their prisoners here."

"You're American too," Harry said, recognizing his accent at last.  The American wizard nodded.

"I worked with your father two months ago.  I helped put Bren and his coven behind bars."  He shook his head regretfully, "I'm sorry you have to be burdened with this wretch now."  He spat at the humming Death Eater in anger.

"Are you Rabbit, sir?" asked Harry.  Sirius had mentioned an American Unspeakable who had worked with him closely for the 3 months spent in America.  Again the wizard nodded.

"That's me.  I was just on the way to pay Sirius a visit and wanted to check up on Bren here.  And you too," he added sheepishly.  "I wanted to see how you were getting along."

Harry didn't reply to that, for there was none to give.  Just looking at the man's pitied expression was enough to know that Rabbit had his answer.

"I'm sorry this had to happen, Harry," Rabbit said.  He really did look sorry.  "I've worked in the field for years; I started before you were born.  You may not care about what I think, and frankly I wouldn't either.  It's just… I believe there is more to this case than meets the eye.  Too many things were convenient, even for an amateur job of a murder by a 15 year old."

"Then… you believe me?  You think there might be a chance…"

"Don't get your hopes up, little one," Rabbit said quickly, "Don't give those dementor things anything more to feed on.  Don't even let yourself have hope.  Let's just say your father and I have some snooping around to do.  Whatever the outcome, I promise to find the truth.  You could be lying to me right now.  You could just be a cold-blooded murderer and no matter how much I dig, I won't be able to find a fragment of evidence in your favor."

"I can't remember a thing about that night," pleaded Harry crawling up to the bars.  "Please, Rabbit sir, I can't swear I'm innocent, because I don't know if I am!"

"I believe that, Harry.  It's impossible to not remember, yet I believe you."  He smiled softly, "With eyes like yours, I don't think you could lie to me successfully.  In fact, with killers you usually see some sort of… I don't know… change in their eyes.  Something that gives them away.  I see nothing of the sort in you."

"For all the good it'll do me," Harry grumbled.  "Try convincing everyone else that my eyes aren't evil."

"Well, surely Sirius…"

"…Could care less."  Tears sprung to Harry's eyes.  He wiped them away furiously.  Sirius wasn't worth his anger.  He promised never to make him cry.  That promise didn't last 6 months.

"But I'm sure he's…"

"He never gave me a chance," insisted Harry, "He disowned me first chance he got."

"Did he now?" mused Rabbit.  He shook his head, "I'll talk to him, Harry.  Things will work out, don't worry."  He turned to leave, but at the last moment, he looked back at the boy before him.  "I once heard that the only things worse than dragons were Americans.  Trust me, Harry.  I'll give both Sirius and the Ministry an earful."

Harry smiled slightly, "I do trust you, Rabbit."

"Good."

As Rabbit walked out of the hallways, the two Orcs by the door went on either side to escort him out.  They didn't give Harry a second glance, for which he was grateful.  He didn't think he could stand their cruel presence now.  Not now when he was granted some hope by the unexpected visitor.

A dementor drifted through the corridor, pausing at Harry and Bren's cell.  Immediately, the small spark of hope was sucked away from the boy violently.  He scuffled back to his straw sleeping mat, trying to get rid of the evil images flying through his mind.

_//"Stand aside you silly girl!//_

_//"Run Lily!"//_

_//"Run Petunia!"//_

_//"He's here!"//_

_//"He's mad!"//_

"Stop!" screamed Harry, holding his head in his hands, "Stop it!"

The dementor stayed where it was, intent on destroying its young prisoner.  They had been far too lenient with this one as of late.  Most would have lost themselves in the madness by now, but this mere child had thus far remained unbroken.  He had a strong spirit indeed.  But no spirit, no matter how strong, could withstand Azkaban for long.

"Go away!" shrieked Harry louder, "Leave me alone!"

When the dementor didn't move, he drew upon his own weapon against the madness.  Time to fight fire with fire.  He thought of the last summer.  Not the time when Sirius was officially pardoned.  Nor the time when Remus stayed up all night with him, telling stories, cooking dinner, and relaxing.  No, he thought of Javen Derios.  The only man who could say he still had a grip on the unbreakable Boy Who Lived.

He forced himself to relive the torment Javen placed on him.  The beatings, the manipulations, the self-loathing that ensued.  He relived it all, reeling from the intense pain.  He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to 'see' the vision as he remembered the intense fear he had gone through.  The fear that Sirius would die in his insane attempts to rescue him.

Satisfied, the dementor strolled away, leaving a terrified boy in its wake.  Yes, the child would break.  And soon.  The boy did not have much left that the soul sucking fiends could still take away.

Collapsing to his straw bed in exhaustion, Harry tried to breathe in the scent of Padfoot.  The scent was still there, deep as always.  He feigned, like he often did, that he was still home.  His real home, the one with Sirius.  None of this ever happened, it was all a bad dream.  And in his imagination, he could swear he saw Sirius' eyes glow with the fierce love and pride that only a father could have.  He held Harry like he did when he was first brought to the hospital after the fight with Javen.  He held him tightly, afraid to break him, but more afraid that Harry would leave him.  His words, soothing and soft, were nothing like the ones Harry had heard as of late.  No, his cold and harsh voice was reserved only for those who would dare take Harry away from him.  That voice was for Javen, Wormtail, Voldemort, and Vernon.  He would die before he made his new son cry.  He had promised…

And with that promise, the vision faded away.  He was again on the hard cold stone.  The murmurs of the insane floated through the air as thick as magic.  Sirius' loving face fled.  "Sirius.  Please stay.  Don't leave me.  You promised you wouldn't leave me," moaned Harry, muffling his choked sobs into the musky, dog-scented straw.  It was with Sirius that he was not afraid to cry.  He was the only one, in fact, that would ever see Harry cry so shamelessly.  Crying was a silent affair always.  With the Dursleys under the stairs, in the boys' dormitories, in Javen's lair, and here in Azkaban.  He could not cry so recklessly less he be perceived as weak and troublesome.

"Hey, kid," a soft hand was placed on Harry's shaking shoulder.  "Kid, come on.  Look at me.  Don't lose it on me now."

Harry wearily looked up from the safety of his mat into the dark eyes of Bren.  He hadn't noticed that he had stopped humming in his mad way.  The American looked down at the boy impassively, but at least there was no underlying aggression in him against his young nemesis.  Odd for a Death Eater, but in this place, it shouldn't have surprised Harry that that the uneasy truce between them had made them brothers in their pain.

"Don't fight them," Bren advised softly.  "It's like any duel, kid.  Roll with the punches.  Bend as the wave breaks or you'll break too."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, rubbing his emerald eyes.

"Give the dementors what they want.  Be miserable.  It's the ones who try to fight what's happening that get broken faster."

"You… you aren't insane at all," Harry realized, "Your humming… it's all an act."

Bren nodded sagely, "I thought you woulda figured it out by now.  Yup, if you're mad, they don't bother you so much.  The Orcs don't need to break the broken ones.  And…" he added humorously, "I got off dealing with that damn Unspeakable, didn't I?  I'm mad when I chose to be and I've come off it a saner man."

Harry nodded, not really listening.  It was so much easier just to lay down and sob.  Easier just to give up.  The tears continued to fall under a will of their own.

"Come on, kid," Bren insisted, "He ain't worth it.  My dad abandoned me years ago.  He ain't worth it and neither is your Sirius.  You don't see me sobbing over those spineless wand wavers who left me when I was arrested, do you?"

"No," Harry whispered.

"And why is that, kid?  Cause it don't help any.  Don't waste your time sobbing over him when he's doing nothing of the sort over you.  Don't let him get you weaker than you are.  If he turns his back on you, turn your back on him.  Hell, the only reason he escaped here in the first place was because he was smart enough to focus on something.  Maybe that's how we'll get out of here too."

"We aren't getting out of here, don't you see?" Harry shook his head. "We're going to die here.  They'll bury us in those pits by the sea.  No one will know we've died.  No one will care."  He looked out the window to the nearby coast.  "'Abandon all hope ye who enter here.'"

"Well, you're just full of jollies, aren't you?" shrugged Bren, "If Rabbit says he'll get you out, he'll get you out.  Don't underestimate that damned Unspeakable.  That was my first mistake."

"You know, for a Death Eater, you aren't half bad," Harry smiled grimly. "Thanks."

"You know, for the symbol of all I hate and despise, you ain't half bad yourself," Bren returned.  "No problem."

They settled back down on their straw mats, content for the moment with their mutual comradeship.  The horrors would never cease, the Orcs would never stop coming, and the dementors would never let their sanity rest.  But, for now it was home.  Harry swore to himself that he would not cry again.  He had been doing far too much of that lately.  Enough was enough.  He remembered Rabbit's words of hope and sighed.  Whether he was set free or not, he no longer cared.  Even if he was set free, and all became right with the world, Azkaban was in his very soul now.  Like it was in Sirius for all time.  Nothing could rip it out.  Just as nothing could rip out the betrayal he felt over Sirius and the others.  They condemned him to this fate.  They did not cry over him, so he would not cry over them.  He only wished that someone somewhere would know the truth about him.  Whether or not he killed the Dursleys, he did not care.  He just wanted to know.

End Part Six

Well, this part is a little longer than usual since I feel so bad about not being able to post as often as I would like.  I honestly do not mean to disappear for weeks on end.  It just happens.  Sorry! : _(

I have mixed feelings about this chapter, and I can't tell if I like it or not.  I didn't intend on having Rabbit and Bren back in the story at all, but the Yank inside me pushed me to do it.  It was a very last minute addition.  I was always told that if you mention a gun in a story, it better be used before the end or it is bad writing.  Therefore, I'm bringing them back in.  Besides, Rabbit is starting to grow on me and Bren isn't too far behind.  He seems too nice for a Death Eater, doesn't he?  That bothers me, but I don't know how else to do him realistically.  It seems like a waste of his energy being pure evil in a place where he can't do anything about it.  Oh, and Rob will make an appearance in the next one.  It's gonna be one of the major chapters, so stay tuned for that!

Sorry about that thing with dragons and Americans ^_^.  I saw 'Reign of Fire' last weekend and laughed when I heard that phrase.  How is my Orc speech?  Is it understandable?  If it's not, let me know.

Now, for my speech: I'm terribly sorry about making Sirius such a… not so nice person in the last one.  If I had known about the reaction you guys would have, I would have toned it down much more than I did.  But trust the Ti.  If you read into it a bit more, you'll see that Sirius is more angry at himself than anyone else.  Harry is just the unfortunate person to get the brunt of it.  I'm sure we've all snapped at the wrong person more than once.  I'll get into this in more detail at the very end of the story like in 'Say Goodnight Not Goodbye.'  

Just know that Sirius is my favorite character and I would never permanently main him in any way, personality included.  If you can't wait long enough for a full explanation, and believe me it's a pretty long explanation, let me know and I'll post it as a separate 'chapter' to clear things up.  This is a very psychological and allegoric story so I do have an explanation for just about everything in this thing.  Don't believe me?  Try me.

It seems that my sequel follows the usual curse that accompanies many sequels of various things.  The first is usually better and anything afterward is pure slush.  If you really want me to change Sirius' role in this, give me 20 separate votes with your own suggestions.  I prefer this version, but I can create another version for you guys if you want it that badly.  You're all lucky actually.  This chapter is much more toned down than originally written for Sirius' and the Orcs' roles.  Phew!  I like this chapter this way anyway.  Much less… tearjerking.

Responses:

Nicky:  I agree that a loving father would not seem like the type of person to relinquish custody.  Now, I don't have a degree in Law, but I would think that if a minor was convicted of a rather naughty crime, they would take custody like it or not.  Sirius would not have had a say in the matter.  I assure you, it was not his idea to suddenly disown Harry.  About Remus and Dumbledore, yes they do think something is going on that they need Harry for.  Don't worry, you'll find out what soon.  And they will get chewed out properly for their actions once this is all over.  You'll see why they needed things to be as they were.

Quatre's Angel: I try my best ^_^

Fire Bug JL: Oh, please don't burst a blood vessel!!!  I'm not a doctor yet!  I'm sorry I almost made you cry, but it is meant to be a sad fic.  Happy reading. ^_^

Dark phoenix: Don't worry about giving me a hard time.  I need a good kick in the butt now and then to get me going.  And I promise to 'hit' Sirius for you.  He gets messed up pretty good in the 8th chapter.  And not just mentally.

Padfoot 1979: Trust me, it hasn't reached rock bottom yet.  That belongs to this chapter and the one after.  It kicks into higher gear afterwards before coming to a long awaited conclusion.  Like I said, I'll explain Sirius' reactions soon enough.  Tell me what you're confused about specifically and I'll try to clear it up.  I probably didn't explain or hint to it well enough.  I'm glad you think I play people's feelings well.  I'm flattered ^_^.  I'm on a good role with it now; the hard part is over so I'll be posting much faster.  ¡Te promeso!

Kateydidnt:  I'm not trying to make it so black and white to make it 'poor one guy and bad another guy'.  Everyone is a 'victim' of something; it just depends what it is.  However, I would tend to agree ^_^.

Star Light: Don't say that!  He won't stay that way for long!

Ms. Issues: Yeah, they've been through a lot lately.  But it's only been a few months since you even met Javen, if you read the first one.  Sirius did not have a choice in the matter, and if he did, it would not be done lightly.  The government, needed custody of any underage minor in order to make everyone's lives much easier.

J Palmgren: Like I said, I wish you wouldn't give up on this story, but I cannot stop you.  This is not an action-based story and wasn't intended to be.  I labeled it 'angst' for a reason.  It is not a comedy and therefore I feel no guilt in making it less than perky.  If it is not understandable, you can ask me for a clearer explanation and I'll tell you what you need to know.  I love feedback like that so I know where I need to focus more of my attention.  I'm sorry you feel it is too repetitive, but I disagree.  I do not intend for Harry to be some pitiful victim, nor do I intend on having a cliché world out to get him.  I have taken an excellent psychology course, and I'm confident that I manipulate my characters to react properly to the circumstances based on what I know about them.  Go on and ask for examples and I'll give them.  With all due respect, if you didn't want to read a story with angst in it, why did you choose this category?  Obviously someone out there wants to read it if my e-mails and reviews are anything to go by.  Oh, and by the way, I hate carrot juice.

Anonymous: Thank you! : D

A. Dee:  Don't cry!  *hands you a tissue * I promise it'll get better!  Yes, Sirius is acting up, but don't let that stop your love for him.  He is my absolute favorite character and I don't want ANYONE to stop liking him because of this.  If you need a reminder of how cool he is, remember how he kicked butt in 'Say Goodnight!'  Remus is not as bad as you think, trust me.  Montere… well, he was just doing his job and you won't be seeing him anymore anyway.  Dursleys are a pain, yes, but you won't be seeing them much anymore either as they're dead.  Javen… yeah, ok, I'll give you that.  He still worked his way into my heart somehow, the wormy little prat.

Katie:  It's not as confusing as it looks… I hope.  If it is, let me know and I'll clear it up.  Yes, the prison has its purpose, but so does Sirius.  His behavior doesn't have as much a purpose as it does a psychological catalyst.  And yes, he still retains his previous role.  Yes, nothing is as it seems.  Just the way I like it *_~ You are amazing!  You are correct in both theories!  I hoped that someone would pick up on my clues here and there.  I can give that away just because it is mostly all explained in the next chapter.

Alexa Black:  Of COURSE I remember you!  I still have your story to get up there.  Sorry it's taking so long, this monstrosity is taking up much of my free time and I'm not sure if I want your dream to be part of this story or on its own.  I am so glad you understand the shock that Sirius was going through.  Yes, he freaked out for many reasons, stress and shock among them.  And I assure you he comes to his senses.  Hmm…Voldemort?  We'll see… ^_^

Black Panther:  No, don't cry! I'm running out of tissues for my readers!  Tell your mom that no you're not nuts, it's all me ^_^.  Next two days?  How about this?

KKDT:  Thanks!


	7. I Never Said I Could Walk On Water

I think that Rabbit's first 3 words sum up everyone's feelings pretty well.  The 'warm and fuzzy' memory I put in there is specifically for A. Dee and anyone else who feels they need a reminder of why they love Sirius so much.  This chapter bounces up and down from dark to explanations to dark again.  Careful, I dish out a lot of info at once in here.

As to some people's questions on the Orcs.  No, they are not intended to be like LOTR Orcs.  I've seen them in other places than LOTR so I don't think I'm infringing on any copywrights.  Hmmm… make a troll 8 feet tall, give it a goblin's wit and bad mood, color it like a goblin, and you'll get the basic idea.  If anyone has MTG cards, think of their goblins and Orcs for an idea of what I'm talking about.

Part 7: I Never Said I Could Walk On Water

The contest of wills was just begun, yet it seemed like it had gone on for an eternity.  Remus watched the argument from Sirius', and now his, favorite overstuffed chair with a look of absolute fascination on his face.  If anyone could put Sirius in his place as well as Rabbit, Remus would ship himself off to Azkaban.  He could usually pride himself on being able to rein in Sirius' free spirit, but it definitely took a stubborn, disagreeable man to put a stubborn, disagreeable man in his place.

"Damn you, Sirius!" Rabbit seethed, his true temper shining through, "You are the most thick-headed, stupidest…"

"Relentless, insane," Remus supplied.

"Thank you.  Relentless, insane…"

"Disagreeable, stubborn…"

"Thank you, Remus!  That's enough!" snapped Sirius.  Moony promptly backed off, half-amused, half-frightened, and all agreeing with the American.

Sirius stared at the Unspeakable with a cool gaze.  But his eyes held the deepest of anger within them.  "You have no right to storm into here demanding that I reopen the case."

"Have you even gone to see the boy since you shipped him off?!  He's dying, Sirius!  You know how it is in there.  He can't last much longer.  You have to do something!"

"I've done all I can.  He murdered those people, why don't you just accept it?" Sirius returned.

"Harry did no such thing.  And if he did, it was because he had no choice in the matter."

"Look at the evidence, Rabbit!  It's obvious!"

"Just as it's obvious that you murdered 13 people with one curse!"

Sirius stood there with his mouth agape for a few moments.  Breathing became more difficult and his heart squeezed in his chest.  His mind rallied against Rabbit's words.  This had nothing to do with what happened before.  The boy was guilty!  But another, smaller, voice taunted him with the words.  What if it was all a mistake?  What if there was something else to it?  Something so obvious that no one would ever delve further into it?

"He is your son, Sirius," Rabbit said more softly.  He knew to back off now that the idea had finally made it into the man's thick skull.  "You owe him everything.  That is your child rotting away in that prison.  I could never live with myself if my little girl was imprisoned and I did nothing.  If I hadn't done everything in my power to learn the truth."

"But where do we start?" asked Remus when it became obvious that Sirius would not answer.  Sirius was currently standing there with his head bowed, a look of anguish on his face.

"With the wand," Rabbit said, holding up some papers.  "Your wandmaker did the reverse spell to find the killing curse.  Look at the other spells that came out in reverse order.  What happened that night?  Rebuild those moments."

"How did you get those?" Remus asked in amazement, "Those are classified!"

He only smiled and held out the papers to him, a glint of brashness in his eyes worthy of a true Marauder.  The werewolf took them with trembling hands.  Why did Rabbit smile that way?  Did he know something that he and Sirius did not?  He looked through the court's transcript anxiously, trying to find a missing piece of the puzzle.  He saw none.

"Look harder," Rabbit urged.  "Imagine that night.  There is only one missing piece in this puzzle that I don't know.  Maybe you can explain it to me."

Mentally groaning at the American's confidence, Remus read the part where Mr. Ollivander cast the reverse spell.

/"Mr. Ollivander, would you please demonstrate this with Harry's wand?"

"Of course."  Mr. Ollivander took the wand.  "_Priori Incantatum!"_

Lumos.

"_Priori Incantatum!"_

Alohomora.

"_Priori Incantatum!"_

A block.

An anti-animagi spell.

Another block.

This time, a Stunner.

Next, the Killing Curse, proved by the three shadows of the Dursleys.

Mr. Ollivander dropped the wand.

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.  I have no more questions."/ 

Still, Remus did not see it.  Rabbit groaned outloud.  "It's right there in front of you, Lupin!  Look!"

Suddenly, Remus looked at the parchment with wide eyes.  His face grew pale and drawn.  "Oh!  But the fingerprints… of course!  How bloody brilliant!  Of course he wouldn't leave any marks!"

"What is it?" asked Sirius in a subdued tone that Remus decided he definitely didn't like.  He drew up behind him, trying to see what had his friend and the American so excited.

"Padfoot, look!"  He thrust the paper in Sirius' hands and quickly moved to the fire.  "I need to see Professor Dumbledore right away!  I need to get a hold of Harry's wand."

Sirius stared after his friend, usually so sober and calm.  Why, now, were their roles so reversed?  What had the werewolf seen in the parchment that no one had noticed throughout the whole trial?

He too looked through the paper, struggling to find anything that would tell him.  A small part of his mind selfishly hoped to God that there was no mistake.  He did not think he could ever live with himself again if he had sent an innocent boy to Azkaban.  After all those harsh words, the tears, the banishment… oh, Harry must hate him now!  Better to let the boy be guilty.  Better that Sirius never had to face those large emerald eyes again.

He looked anyway.  And what he saw there, hidden so innocently within the parchment folds took his breath away and stole whatever remaining self-love he possessed.  There it was, clear as day.  And so obvious that no one would give it a second thought.

"Do you see it now, Snuffles?" asked Rabbit, knowing he did.  "I still don't understand the part about the fingerprints, but the rest makes total sense."

"I can tell you about the fingerprints, Rabbit," Sirius snarled, his sadness boiling into fierce hatred.  "I can tell you all about the bloody fingerprints."

*          *            *

Harry raised his eyes stubbornly to meet those of the large creatures in front of him.  The Orcs had brought him his meal of hard biscuits, an apple, some slices of meat, and some milk.  They had also brought their biting tongues, taunting him like they usually did.  This time, though, he could not just sit there doing nothing.  He could not keep waiting for some miracle to free him; it was time he acted on his own.

"You have to listen to me," he insisted, "I have someone who's trying to reopen the case."

The smaller Orc snuffed his disapproval, "We'uns dona hafta listen ta anathin' yeh say.  Yeh belon' ta us'n."

"I belong to no one," he retorted, piercing their gaze with his own.  "Least of all, you."  He knew he was not supposed to look at them straight on for fear of punishment, but he did not care.  The larger Orc grabbed the back of his prison robes and drew him up to the bars.

"Ida though' yeh knew th' rules b' now, Elfie," the larger of the two Orcs growled, "We dona care if yeh a cub o no.  Th only thin yeh need te know is tha yeh can scream an wail fer all time.  Bu' we dona care.  Th Dementors dona bother us an we dona bother tham.  We doin oura jobs.  An yeh can try te be brave an no cryin' like da Elflin' yeh ar'.  Bu' lemme tell yeh now, Elfie.  Th onla courage yeh need is th courage te lego.  Ita be easia a yeh, methink."

"I can't let go," Harry seethed through the pain in his back.  He choked on the stench of the creature's putrid breath.  "Please, just let me see my father or Remus.  I have to talk to them."  A harsh cuff to the lower back of his head caused stars to dance in front of his eyes.

"Haven ya ben payin attention ta me, Elfie?  We dona care if you'n cub o no.  We dona care if you'n Da' cume o you'n go'da cume.  We dona care if you'n guilt o no.  We dona care ifn you Cub Wh Live o no.  Now dona lemme hear nutha word from yeh, less ita be a scream.  Yeh ar' stron', Elfie.  Bu' no'un's stron' enou'.  Yeh go mad in da end.  Ah promise yeh dat."

Then the gateskeeper dropped Harry next to the humming Bren.  When the Orcs left them to finish their meal rounds, the Death Eater shook his head at the boy.

"Don't let them get to you, kid.  Just be glad that it'll be all over soon."

"Over?  What do you mean?" he asked, gingerly laying on his stomach where his sore back would not come in contact with the thick layer of grime and dirt.  For all the good it did; there was no escaping the foulness of the prison.  If Bren's appearance was anything to go by, he looked like Hell.  There was no part of his body, visible or not, that wasn't covered in grime or a random bruise from a harsh cuff.  The rats, parasites, and cockroaches no longer frightened him and the cries of the mad sounded eerily like the inner musings of his mind.

"Just that, kid.  They'll kill you one day if you get them angry enough and if you don't go mad first.  Even then, you'll either be nuts, dead, or outta this hellhole altogether.  So cherish it, m'lad!" he clapped Harry on the back heartily, knowing full well what had occurred to the boy only moments ago.

Harry hissed in pain, but did nothing else.  Pain was a constant in his life, so why fight it?

"I'll let them kill me then," Harry said calmly.  "Next time, I'll make them so mad they'll have no choice but to kill me."

"Are you serious?" asked Bren unbelievingly.  He knew the boy well enough to know he didn't joke about death.  Harry nodded matter-of-factly.  And why shouldn't he be serious?  What else in life held anything in store for him besides pain and madness?  Sirius had hinted that suicide was a common, but commonly unsuccessful means of escape for the inmates.  Why not become just one of the masses for once?  Why did he have to stick out in a crowd all of the time?  What made him so special?  Just some stupid scar on his head, that's all!

"It shouldn't be too hard," Harry said honestly, "I have a habit of making people angry with me."

"You've lost it, kid," Bren said, laughing nervously, "You're freaking nuts."

"Maybe," the boy agreed, "But not for long."

Bren didn't comment on this, but looked the other direction.  He didn't want anything to do with this boy when he was so far gone that he would kill himself.  He had to hold on just a little longer… surely Master would come for his loyal ones soon.  Master wouldn't just abandon him here with this insane kid… would he?

That night, Harry stayed awake staring at the stars.  Orion was bright in the sky; there was no moon to blot out the celestial blanket.  Bren had started his humming again, refusing to deal in a conversation with Harry now that he had confessed his intentions.

As Orion climbed higher into the sky, the Great Dog followed its master faithfully.  The eye of the dog, the brightest star in all the heavens, bathed Harry in its soft light.  The great star Sirius, the dog star, winked at the young prisoner.  Meteors fell from its center now and then, giving the impression of a weeping dog.  Harry shrugged away his fond memories of the star in case a patrolling dementor was near.  The star was like any other.  A great ball of flame and gas millions of miles away.  Yet, the soft memory came to him like a warm blanket in the cold prison.

Nearly a year ago, just after Sirius' capture that led to his acquittal, he had had precious few moments with Harry.  But one night, when they were alone, Sirius had made another of his useless promises…

_/"Do you see that star, Harry?"  Sirius pointed out of the barred window into the night sky.  "The great big one next to Orion's Belt?"_

_"Yeah, I see it," replied Harry sadly, still upset over the current situation._

_"Do you know what it's called?"_

_"It's Sirius, the Dog Star."_

_"That's right," Sirius nodded.  "According to astronomers, it's the brightest star in the sky.  My father always said that a kid needed a star to go by, so he gave me one."  Sirius smiled sadly at the memory of his once-loving father._

_"But, Sirius, what's that got to do with anything?" asked Harry._

_Sirius shrugged, "Just to pass the hours for one.  And another, because I'm a realistic man.  I know that I probably won't get out of this alive, and I want to give you something to remember me by.  There aren't too many stars named Potter up there, so I'm letting you have mine."_

_"A star?  Sirius… that's not going to…"_

_"I know, Harry.  It won't change a thing.  But if they kill me, or suck out my soul, or give me Potions lessons for the rest of my life, I want you to know that you'll never be alone again.  I haven't been the godfather that I wanted to be, and well, this isn't much at all.  Not by a long shot.  But no matter where you are, or what my condition may be, you'll always have that star.  Just like you'll always have me.  Death can't change that."_

_Harry would have drifted back into his grieved mind, but Sirius caught his eye.  Even clothed in old prison robes, looking by every right a dangerous criminal, Sirius kept his dignity with grace.  His humor and pride had not daunted at all in the past years, which would have killed a lesser man.  He was so much braver than Harry ever gave him credit for.  He laughed in the face of death, willing to give his life for the sake of a boy who wasn't even his son.  Who would never be his son._

_"Hey, how about a smile for your godfather, Harry?" Sirius asked teasingly, "There's enough tears in this place already."_

_He would not be one to deny this brave man's request, so he managed to give Sirius the briefest of smiles.  Sirius reached through the bars and held Harry's hand, willing some of the peace he felt to fill the boy before him.  They stayed like that until Remus returned to bring Harry back to his school.  The only reason he had been let out at all was because he refused to attend any classes until he saw his godfather.  Dumbledore had deemed it more productive to sate the boy with his request than to risk the boy's education._

_"I don't want to say goodbye, Sirius," Harry had whispered seeing Remus coming to get him.  He knew this very well might be the last he ever saw of his only father figure.  Sirius shook his head and smiled, sapphire eyes glowing with laughter and warmth._

_"Then don't say goodbye, Harry.  Say goodnight instead."/_

"Goodnight, Sirius," Harry whispered.  Staring at the bright blue star, blue as Sirius' eyes were blue, his hatred melted.  He could not hate Sirius, no matter what Sirius had said to him.  He loved him like a father and his good and courageous deeds far made up for whatever harsh things he had to say.

As he watched the night sky, wondering how best to make his death quick and painless, a dark blur covered the Dog Star.  He first thought it was a passing cloud, but the quickly moving shape zigzagged back and forth like a giant insect.  Then the figure disappeared again and Harry wondered if Bren weren't right and he was mad.

Then it was back, coming closer at a quicker rate.  Harry pushed himself up and stood to see out the window more clearly.  He barely came up to its bottom rim, but at least he could see more than when he was on the ground.  Now where was that…

"Hello, Harry," a boyish voice said.  Harry leaped back in surprise, nearly falling on top of Bren who was oblivious to the happenings on the other side of the cell.  A small, round face popped up and peeked through the window.  His cold blue eyes scanned the cell.  "Harry?  Are you there?"

"Rob?" whispered Harry furiously, "What are you doing?!  I'm 20 stories up!"

"I'm on a broom, you idiot," snapped Rob impatiently.  "Now hurry up!"

"What?"  Harry was just trying to deal with the fact that an 11-year-old boy's head was floating outside his prison window.

"The rope, Harry!  The rope!"  Rob shoved a thick cord of rope through the bars.  "Tie it around a few of the window bars.  Quick!"

He did as he was told, running purely on autopilot.  Rob instructed him to stand back as he flew away, struggling to pull away the bars.  Finally, the strength of the racing broom won out and 3 bars became loose enough for Harry to pull out.  There was still not enough room for him to climb out though, even in his thinner state.  The designers of the dreaded prison knew well enough to make sure that couldn't happen.

Rob frowned at this and finally took out his wand.  Harry stood back again, hoping the child knew what he was doing.  Curses fell in quick succession, so fast that Harry couldn't decipher what they were.  Obviously some sort of advanced spell work that he had not even learned yet.  But then, how did the boy know?

Pieces of the wall were blown apart and disintegrated.  Harry had to curl up in a corner to avoid the flying shards.  Some of the prisoners woke up and started yelling in their delirious rampages.  Surely the dementors would soon come to see what the sudden problem was.  Harry was out of time.

Finally, when a hole was big enough for him to leap through, Harry turned back to Bren.  "Bren, come on!  I have a way out.  Come on!"  Bren had curled up into a defensive ball when the first curse landed and hadn't moved since.  He turned the man over and immediately jumped back in horror.  Bile rose in the back of his throat as he stared in fascinated horror.

A large shard had flown past Bren's defenses and imbedded itself into the American's forehead, killing him instantly.  His skull was crushed and Harry did not want to look further to see if the 'pieces' around the body really were bone and brain.  He had never seen such carnage before and it sickened him.

"Harry!" Rob cried reaching out his hands, "Let's go!"

Harry stood still, images of previous deaths coming before him.  That poor young Auror, the one who just wanted to get him to safety.  And then Javen came, and turned the man into…

A red fire shot passed Harry and hit the dead prisoner.  Bren's body glowed for a moment and then shrank.  Shrank and shrank until it became nothing more than a dead rat in a rubble-filled cell.  No one would ever know the American had been here unless they knew where to look.

"_Harry!  NOW!_" Harry's head filled with a sharp pain as Rob screamed at him.  It felt oddly like… but no.  The man was dead and the link with him.

An invisible force pulled him out of the hole and onto Rob's waiting broom.  As soon as the boy had a grip on Harry, he flew off into the night.  Before losing consciousness, the last thing Harry could recall was the fact that their retreat, swift though it was, was not pursued.

*          *            *

Rabbit sifted through the thick rubble of the cell, looking for any type of clue to go by.  He was amazed by the amount of damage that was caused.  An Orc sighed behind him.  "Dos filthy Elfies ha' ruin me cell.  How dey gettin' a wan'?"

"They didn't break out," Rabbit snapped impatiently.  He hated Orcs, and he hated this prison.  Even when on leave, he had to work on some sort of case.  Alwin better pay him extra for this.  But then, he did request this case from the Minister himself.  Fudge had agreed only because it would mean less of his own agents out on the field.

"Wha' yeh meanin', American?"  demanded the Orc throwing some more rubble into the halls for the cleaning crew to pick up.

"I mean that the rubble was blasted inwards.  They couldn't have done this.  Someone broke them out."

The Orc grumbled and went to his task.  Looking down, Rabbit saw a dead rat.  Normally, such a sight would have merely sickened him.  But it was the position of the animal that gave him pause.

The rat was curled up into a tight ball.  Its paws were tight around its head as though to protect it.  Rabbit knew he had never seen a rat act like this before.  A piece of rubble flew in front of his nose and he jumped back to avoid being hit.

"Watch it, Orc," he snapped, "I'm standing here."

The creature shrugged and kept clearing things out.  Rabbit knelt down to look at the rat and saw specks of blood and bone fragments around it.  Far too large for a mere rodent.  He gingerly took out his wand and muttered a spell to undo any transfiguration spells done recently.  The rat grew and changed its shape until it was just a dead man.

"Orc!" he called, "I've found one of your prisoners.  Looks like only one of them got out after all."

*          *            *

"Are you sure?" asked Fudge skeptically, "You cannot be wrong on this.  I have more than just one neck on the line if you are."

"I'm as close to sure as I can be, Cornelius," Dumbledore assured soothingly.  He needed the Minister's help if he was to get Harry back in one piece.

"He's right, Minister," Remus added coming into Fudge's office through the fire.  "The spells cast on the wand are in a particular pattern that should have been paid more attention to.  I performed more tests on his wand in front of a room full of witnesses."

"Why would you say the spells need more attention paid to them?" asked one of the younger Governors who attended the impromptu meeting of the leaders of the British wizarding world.  Remus turned to the Governor, barely older than himself.

"Let's assume that Harry cast every spell on his wand that night.  First, he used one simple spell to get into the Dursleys' household.  Since he did not live there any longer, the spells surrounding the neighborhood was reduced 10 fold.  After this unlocking spell, an anti-animagi spell was used.  Amateur, but effective.  Then we found simple, but obvious dueling spells.  These spells were most likely intended for another wand user since 'expelliarmus' and others were used.  The dueling spells he used suddenly became not as rudimentary, but reminiscent of Javen Derios' fighting style.  They were powerful and they were all spells that Harry learned from Javen while under his care."

"So?" asked Fudge, still not buying it.  "That just proves my point that the boy was turned by Derios."

"I'm not finished yet, Sir," Remus said as respectfully as possible.  "After these spells were cast, some half-finished spells were cast, nothing substantial.  Then the style of fighting used reminded me of another former friend of mine.  Peter Pettigrew's style: rough, barely effective, and entirely predictable.  Since there were no fingerprints other than Harry's on the wand, I can say that if Wormtail did somehow have control of the wand, he held it with his fake one, the one given to him by Voldemort.  It was during this 'round' of curses that some Unforgivable Curses were used.  Not least of all, the Killing Curse.  After this curse was used, more half-finished spells were spit out.  Then, pure defensive spells were used, cast with amateur, but effective skill: a stunner, a block, a spell to draw out an animagi, another block, alohomora, and finally, lumos.  The wand was found outside the Dusleys' door in the driveway."

"That doesn't prove anything, Lupin," defied Fudge crossing his arms.  "This is all rather convenient, isn't it?  Assuming Pettigrew was at the Muggles' house, what was he doing there the exact same time the boy was?"

"Sounds like a set up, doesn't it?" Dumbledore remarked lightly.

"Do you know something we don't, Professor Dumbledore?" asked another Governor.  He was an elderly wizard who had been elected Governor for the past 9 years.

"Remus first came to me with the suspicion that all was not right at my school," Dumbledore said, "It started with the letters that Harry was sending him right before the attack on the Muggles.  He complained of visions of Javen and of a growing feeling of dread.  His friends also remarked of similar behavior.  Something was keeping Harry from getting over his last ordeal, but I could do nothing about it until it was too late."

"We believe that Javen is not as dead as once thought," Remus finished.  The room was surprisingly silent, broken only by Fudge's exclamation.

"Of all the… Derios is dead!" he insisted, "I saw the body myself.  His body is lying in some grave in Wales right now!"

"He body is," agreed Remus, "But every new piece of information I'm finding leads me to believe that somehow he is very much alive.  If Harry still had control of the wand when Javen's curses were used, then it is only the second time he wielded them.  The first time was when Auror Granby confronted them.  Harry used those curses under Javen's direction and control.  He does not have the skill to cast such spells that efficiently.  And there was the link spell that was cast by them over the summer: if one person were to die, the other most likely would too.  Yet, Harry lived."

"Javen would do anything to get his hands on Harry again," Sirius growled.

"Let's just say that Derios is somehow among the living," Fudge reluctantly conceded.  "Let's assume he was controlling the boy that night.  And we'll even say that the deaths were meant to be a set up.  What would Derios accomplish by sending the boy to Azkaban where he is sure to go mad with no way out?"

"But Harry isn't in Azkaban now is he?" asked Dumbledore, "And from what I hear from our American friend here, he hasn't gone mad."

"He would have counted on Harry surviving the prison," Sirius realized.  "Just like he counted on Harry surviving the Death Eater attack during the summer."

"He knows Harry's mind inside out," Remus nodded.  "He knows more of what Harry can withstand than Harry does himself.  The link is still there.  And I'm confident that he's the one who has him now."

"There is no proof," Fudge denied, trying to cling to some semblance of reality.  He would not want to send an innocent boy to Azkaban, least of all the most important boy to his campaign against Dark Magic.  But unless he had proof of his innocence, that boy was still guilty.

"True," agreed Remus.  "But it's making more sense than anything else I've heard lately."

"What about the Death Eater I found as a rat?" mused Rabbit.  "How would he fit into all this?"  He was not as well versed in the story of Javen or Wormtail and was trying to follow along as best he could.

"What Death Eater?" asked Sirius.  Rabbit shrugged.

"We all thought Bren Bouche, the coven master we arrested in Boston, had escaped too.  Turns out he was transfigured into a dead rat.  The coroner says that he was dead before being transfigured.  He was hit by a shard of rock when the wall blew in."

Remus' gray eyes glimmered in victory now.  "Minister, I think we've got our proof.  Harry couldn't have done that without a wand.  And only Javen knows how to transfigure a dead human into a rat.  He did the same thing to Auror Granby if you remember.  It's part of his 'dueling style' to cover up his tracks like that."

"Yes, but…"

"As Harry's defense attorney, I call the last trial a mistrial.  The evidence was not presented in a full and concise manner.  I recommend an appeal."  Fudge flustered for some words to this.  A seated Governor stood up.

"I second this recommendation, Minister.  There is substantial reasonable doubt in my mind that this Javen character is behind this somehow."

"I agree," the younger Governor said, "Let's find the boy and get everything cleared up."

Fudge could do nothing but nod, faced with such opposition.  "Very well, Dumbledore," he agreed reluctantly, "If we find him, you will get your appeal.  But we still do not know where to look."

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, an unspoken conversation taking place between them.  "We'll find them, Minister," Remus said after a while.  "We tracked Javen once and we can do it again."

"Fine," Fudge said.  "I'll send out my own agents as well.  I can't count on the two of you finding that madman."

"I don't think he's mad, Minister," Remus said, "Just very smart.  And very hell-bent on getting Harry for his purposes."

"And we are just as hell-bent on getting him back," Sirius said in a low voice.  His sapphire eyes glowed dangerously.  All of his previous anger and grief was being directed toward this one goal now.  Remus mentally sighed in relief.  It was good to have some semblance of the old Padfoot back.

"Go then," Fudge said waving his hand dismissively.  "We don't have time to stand here and debate on the issue."

They nodded and went through the fire.  Rabbit turned to Dumbledore.  "What should I do, Headmaster?" he asked.  "I don't know this man or how he works."

"You can stay with my team of hit-wizards and Aurors, Unspeakable," Fudge said.  "Merlin knows they don't have a mind to share among them."

*          *            *

The world became hazy with black and yellow.  Nauseous though he was, Harry didn't have anything in his stomach to justify throwing up.  His head ached and throbbed uncontrollably and his limbs felt like lead.  At least he was off that broom.  He didn't know his young rescuer could fly like that; no should be able to fly like that.  Harry was surprised the broom didn't snap from the exertion.  As far as he could tell, they were not being pursued, so why push the broom to its limits?

Opening his heavy eyelids, Harry forced his body to stir.  How nice it had been, just to lay where he was, knowing there were no dementors, orcs, or mad prisoners to deal with.  His body was finally beginning to relax again, being in a constant state of alert since he entered that hellish prison.

However, if he learned anything from his life, it was that you could never relax without first being aware of your surroundings.  He had been caught off his guard too many times in his young life and was trying to learn to be more alert.

"Rob?" asked Harry.  He coughed on some dust layering the building he was in.  "Rob?  Are you there?"

"Yeah," said a soft voice in the shadows.  Rob came out from under a flight of stairs where he had been sitting.

"What were you doing under there?" asked Harry puzzled.  The young boy shook his head.

"Nevermind.  Do you think you can…"  he trailed off, listening to something beyond Harry's hearing.

"Do I think I can what?"

"Shh!"  Rob listened again, a slightly worried expression on his face.  Suddenly, he reverted back to his original conversation.

"Look, Rob," Harry said when he was sure he could speak again.  "I appreciate you breaking me out and all, but you really shouldn't have.  Now you're going to get in trouble.  I think you should get out of here."

"I've been in plenty of trouble before," Rob assured folding his arms into his school cloak.  "This won't change anything."

"I think you're the one who doesn't get it," Harry insisted.  "You should get out of here.  I'll be fine on my own."

"Do you want to go back to Azkaban?" demanded the boy angrily, eyes flashing.  When the older boy before didn't answer, he calmed down again.  This time he didn't apologize for his hot temper.  "I didn't think so.  Just stick with me and we'll be alright."

"What were you listening to before?"  Harry asked, trying to push himself onto his weak legs.  He hadn't really used them in a long time.  Rob half smiled.

"Your father," he replied matter-of-factly.  "I set up silent alarms along the way.  I hoped we could move so fast that he wouldn't be able to pick up our trail.  It seems I was wrong.  He's tracking us.  And fast."  He looked back at Harry, "If he catches us, he'll take us both to Azkaban."

Harry was struck dumb.  How had Padfoot found their trail so quickly?  He was even quicker than before, during the summer.  He would never be able to get away in time.

"We have to hurry then," Harry said nearly frantic, "He'll be here in no time at all."

"Exactly," Rob agreed.  "You stay here while I go throw off our trail.  He'll never get here."

"But how do you intend on…" He did not get to finish his question, for the boy was already out the door.  He sighed, looking around for a good place to hide in case Rob was wrong.  It didn't really matter where he hid for he knew that Padfoot could sniff him out despite everything.  But would he really take Harry back to Azkaban if he found him?

'Don't be stupid,' he berated himself, 'He hates you, doesn't he?  He'll take you back faster than you'll be able to blink.  He wants you to hurt like he's been hurt.'

Even though he would never find a suitable hiding place, Harry looked around anyway.  He may need a quick escape route later, and besides, he needed to keep his mind busy.  The sun was just setting in the horizon, but Harry could still see clearly, or what passed for 'clearly' these days.  People were still about so he had to be careful to remain hidden.  The building he was in was an old condemned building, safe haven from those who did not wish to be bothered by others.  He must have been asleep or unconscious for a long time since he was rescued around 3 in the morning.

He ducked his head quickly as a passing couple walked nearby, heading toward the lake.  His ears pricked at their dialect.  Unless they were a foreign couple, he knew he was once again in Ireland.  The last time he had been there was when Javen stole him away to Dublin.

He looked around the building with widening eyes.  It looked fuzzy and dark with the fading sunlight and lack of glasses, but it seemed frighteningly familiar.  He stumbled to a certain corner of the building, reaching out his hand blindly.  His hands flashed back to his chest as though they were burned.  In front of him was the old closet that Javen had locked him in when he refused to take control of a merman's mind.  And just 10 feet away, next to a toppled set of table and chairs, over a snapped pencil, next to a flimsy strip of flexi-steel ribbing was an ancient fireplace.  He had used that fireplace to contact Professor Dumbledore, desperate to hear a soothing word from the wise Headmaster.

His mind panicked for a moment or two.  He could not deal with this, not now!  Why could his past not stay buried?  Why had Rob taken him here of all places?

He struggled to gain control of his emotions.  The calmer, wiser part of his brain forced him to sit back down on the stairs, away from the room full of memories.  'Javen is dead,' he thought, 'You killed him yourself.  They found his body.  It's all over.'  But was it really?

End Part 7


	8. Who Wants to Live Forever

A/N: Ever see a movie with a ridiculously long chase scene?  You know, where the villain is chasing the hero for what seems like forever.  It usually involves a few guns, some cars that defy the laws of physics, and a random horse or two.  Don't forget the infamous upbeat chase music.  Let me tell you right now, I don't like it.  They are overdone and do nothing but use up time.  Therefore, I will not drag you along for a million chapters as Sirius and Remus chase Harry halfway across the world.  The whole story will most likely be no longer than 9 or 10 chapters.  It might seem a bit rushed but I see no other way to wrap this up without dragging you through 10 more chapters, and I don't think anyone wants that.

Sorry about last chapter's crazy format.  I'll try to fix that.

Part 8: Who Wants to Live Forever

"You have got to be kidding me," Sirius said, "Why would he come back here?"

Remus shook his head as they walked through the streets.  "When there are two answers to a solution, one complex and another simple, which it is the usual answer?"

"Moony, you know I hate it when people say stuff like that.  They always bring up that incident in the street with Wormtail."

"But, you see, the simplest answer was the true one!  It was much more simple a concept that Wormtail liked playing with the big boys rather than you, who had everything, betraying your best friend."

"And what does this have to do with finding Harry?" grumbled Sirius putting his hands in his pockets.  He hated it when Remus made him look like an idiot like that.  His week was not shaping up to be a good one.

"Remember last time, when he only went around the island to hide rather than flee to another corner of the world like everyone would think?  He is set up with the same options here and I'll bet my lycanthropy that he'll make the same mistake.  He's too clever for his own good and while Fudge scours England and uses his foreign contacts to find a rogue wizard, the nearest island remains unchecked.  Believe me, if Javen is anywhere else than here, Fudge in his infinite wisdom, will find him."

"I don't understand everything though," Sirius said as they turned a corner.  "Javen's body was recovered.  Fudge was right about that; he saw the body himself.  How can a dead wizard break a kid out of the most heavily guarded prison and not be noticed at all?"

"I don't know," Remus admitted.  He turned his gray eyes on his friend.  "But don't trust anything right now.  Someone or something is out there and it has Harry under Javen's orders.  Expect Javen's catalyst to appear in unexpected ways.  I have my hunches, but I can't say anything for certain.  Just be on your guard."

"You knew all along this would happen, didn't you?" asked Sirius, a sudden realization coming to him.

"Sirius," Remus said with false levity, "We'll discuss this later.  Right now we have a boy to find."  He stopped them suddenly.  "We'll have better luck if we split up.  I'll take the western shore, the one by the cliff where you fought him last.  You check the shack where Harry called us from.  You remember where it is?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Good luck, Sirius."  With that, the werewolf Apparated away.  Sirius stood there for a few stunned moments.  The times that Remus had actually avoided a conversation altogether were few and far between.  What was it about it that bothered him so?

He shook his head of the thoughts.  Moony was right, he had a task to do and until then, all other worries would only weigh him down.  He transformed into a dog in an alley and trotted out of the town to the lights in the near distance.  Beyond those lights would be a small hidden wizarding town just on the outskirts of Dublin.  The wizards who designed it made sure to keep it free from its urban surroundings.  It was as green and beautiful as when the first wizards founded it.  And on the edge of that small Irish town, there would be a lake.  And next to that, well, was the shack.

It was beginning to grow dark by the time he entered the outskirts of the Irish wizarding village.  Fortunately, his canine eyes were not bothered by the lack of light.  He sniffed nervously around the town, feeling like a child who was looking under his bed for a monster.  He knew he could not trust his eyes, so he trusted his nose instead.  If he could not sniff out Javen, he would sniff out Harry.  Wherever Harry was, Javen was sure to be close by.

Finally, he caught the scent of something… not quite right.  It smelled like just another boy, but mingled with that scent was an underlying darkness no child should have.  All of Javen's hatred, ambition, and need for revenge was within that scent.  His very essence cleverly masked by that of a boy.  But whether he traveled with another boy, or was the boy himself, Sirius could not tell.

He followed the scent to an old warehouse overlooking the lake and opposite to the old fisher's shack.  The dusty building groaned and creaked with the unexpected visitor.  He could see it was an old meat factory from the hooks and processors littering the building.  His large paws regrettably made tracks in the layers of dust and threatened to clog his sharp nose or make him sneeze.  If he needed anything right then, it was stealth.

He found a set of small footprints leading further into the building, but he could not tell if the scent had changed from that of his quarry to that of a simple boy.  His nose was going haywire with the old smells of the meat, rusting metal, and baneful dust.  But he could hear his only lead moving quietly in the next room, the packing room.  He had no choice but to follow.

He entered the packing room cautiously, expecting the unexpected.  He was so focused on his immediate surroundings, that he failed to cover his back.  He was not able to block the newly sharpened hook that ripped across his back.  Letting out a yowl of pain and surprise, he jumped back out of the hook's reach.

Swiveling around to see his attacker, he found himself looking at a wizard hidden in a cloak.  His scent was impossible to identify due to the smells of their surroundings and the pain that seared Sirius' back.  He knew his dog form would be not help here and that he needed his wand.  So, painfully, he transformed back, trying not to let his fresh wound hold him back.

Sirius struggled to stand up to face the hooded wizard in front of him.  Before he could even raise his wand, a loud boom echoed through the building.  The next thing he was aware of was the hardness of the ground beneath him and a strange sensation at his middle.  Looking down, he saw a large red flower blooming from his stomach.  No, not a flower.  Blood.  You're bleeding, Sirius!  Get up!

"Do you like my little toy, Black?" a deep voice laughed from beneath the hood.  Sirius shook in rage at the familiar voice.  The wizard drew out an oddly shaped piece of metal. "A common weapon among muggles, but useful nonetheless.  They call it a gun.  Most wizards are too vain to use such a primitive weapon and that makes them unfamiliar with it.  A weakness that can prove to be fatal.  Don't you agree, Black?"

Sirius moaned in pain and clutched at his stomach, not replying to the wizard's taunts.  He had never felt such concentrated pain before.  What fool of a Muggle thought that weapon up?

"I hear that the worst place to be shot is in the stomach," the wizard mused.  "It is the wound that takes the longest time to die from.  You must know your reputation in school being the egotist you are.  As a boy you laughed at death, loved every thrill that came your way.  Here's one more hurrah for your record, Black.  You're in the race of your life.  Will your systems shut down first, or will you run out of blood?  Do let me know when it's all over.  I'm a very curious man."

"I'll kill you, you son of a…" the kick came swiftly to his middle and he was unable to block it.  Sirius gasped clutching his middle as he fell to his knees, struggling to keep breathing.  The wizard chuckled and shook his hooded head.

"Always were the brave one, weren't you?" he asked amused.  "But this time there's no one to rescue you.  You drove away all your little friends years ago.  At least, the ones that aren't dead because of you.  I'll leave you to your agony, Black.  You gave no less to your own son after all.  Which reminds me; I'm late for an engagement with him.  So if you'll excuse me…"

"Don't you go near Harry!" Sirius shouted.  But it was too late and the figure had gone.

*          *          *

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when the door opened.  He had been lost in his memories and did not expect Rob to return so soon.  Rob threw off his overcloak and moved to the space beneath the stairs to rummage through his small bag.  He turned back to Harry when the boy drew near.

"Don't worry, Harry," he smiled innocently.  "Sirius won't be bothering us anymore.  I… threw him off our scent."

"He's not hurt, is he?" asked Harry surprised at his own reaction.  He did not want to be caught, but he did not want anyone else hurt on his account either.  He had not yet reached the level where he would resort to anything to keep from getting caught.

"Don't worry so much, Harry," Rob shook his head.  "Everything's taken care of."  He stood up and put something swiftly into his pocket.  "I don't see why we can't stay here for a while.  Just until you're ready to move on."

"Rob, I want out of here right now," Harry said firmly.  He flinched at the waver in his voice, but he couldn't do anything about that now.  He was bloody scared.  Scared of this evil place, scared of the Ministry finding him, and scared of the strange gleam in the child's eyes.  Something was terribly wrong; his instincts usually did not lie when they burned him this intensely.  He just could not place the source of the 'wrongness'.  The darkness seemed to weigh him down and his eyes were nearly useless.

"Where would you go, Harry?" asked Rob simply.  "You have no one to turn to."  He shook his head sympathetically. "You must be tired, you should rest."

Harry felt the darkness weigh even more upon him and he felt suddenly weary.  He was practically sleeping on his feet and his mind was not processing what it should.  Then as quickly as the sleepiness came, it left.  Rob's eyes rooted the older boy to the spot.  "You have no one, Harry.  Stay with me.  You can still learn so much."

Harry recognized the tendrils of darkness lacing his mind and roughly resisted with all his might.  Somehow, Javen was not dead.  He could feel it.  Somehow he had lived through that hellish landslide, and tracked him down.  The presence of the dark wizard filled the cabin, dizzying in its power.  He would not stay that building a moment longer.  He didn't care if half the hit-wizards in the Ministry were out there waiting for him; he was leaving.

He turned from the child's cold blue eyes and went to the door.  "Rob, we need to leave now!" he whispered fiercely, "Javen is here somewhere!  We have to get out!"

"Stay with me, Harry!" Rob insisted getting angry.  "Say that you'll stay and learn from me!  Let me finish what I started!  You'll be sorry if you don't."

"You're nuts," Harry muttered reaching out for the knob.  "Javen is here, Rob.  We are leaving now!"  He felt the door as it was locked firmly in place by an unseen source.

"Do you still refuse to accept the truth, boy?!" Javen's voice filled the building and reverberated off the walls.  Harry felt his skin crawl at the sound and he backed away in fear.  Even after all this time the sound of Javen's voice made Harry want to curl up into a defensive ball.  But he would not allow himself to.  He was half a year older and he could defeat the fear.

He looked over at Rob, who had not moved during this.  No, wait.  Was that Rob?  A dull pain in his head made it hard to see right.  The shape in the shadows seemed to meld between young Rob and Javen.  Then the figure moved forward and his sandy hair caught in the dim moonlight.

"You thought you could kill me!" Javen's voice boomed out of Rob's mouth.  A new wave of pain came over Harry and he fell to his knees, "You thought a simple landslide could finish me off, didn't you!?  Well, you thought wrong!"

Rob's knee made contact with Harry's head and he went sprawling backwards.  He hit something soft that stopped his momentum.  Turning around he could see Sirius, bleeding heavily from a wound in his middle, but still standing tall with his wand clenched tightly in his pale hands.  The man stood proud, but Harry could see him weakening quickly.

Rob, or was it Javen, saw Sirius too and took a step back into the shadows.  All Harry could see was two sapphire fires burning in the darkness and grinning bone white teeth.  His grin never left his face.  "Sirius Black.  Still alive are you?  What a surprise…"

"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Sirius, not losing eye contact with Rob.  His voice gave away nothing that might stand for concern or disgust.  It was merely strained, for it took nearly all of his energy to stand.  The blood loss was becoming dangerous now and his eyes were too unable to focus properly.

"Y-yeah.  I'm fine," he answered, trying to drive back the pain in his head now that the physical pain had subsided.  Sirius nodded once and turned all his attention on the figure in the shadows.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Who do you think I am, old friend?" the figure answered mockingly.

"But Rob…" Harry started.

"You never met him," Javen sneered.

"Polyjuice, then?"

"No.  Dumbledore would have detected me in no time if it were that.  No, I had a little help from my son."

"I never…"

"Oh, please.  You?  We are conceited, aren't we?  You think I still consider you a son of mine?  Never again.  You are cursed, Harry Potter.  You are cursed an orphan's life for all time.  No, I had a son or didn't you know?  The Ministry had forbidden it, so I made sure they never found out.  But he was weak and too full of his mother's ideals to be useful to me.  That is until last summer.  We had the same spell cast that you and I did.  And it got to be so strong that I could impose my full will upon him and destroy his own for a while.  When you supposedly killed me, I just had to shift my consciousness over to him.  He died during the transition, unfortunately." Javen's sneer left his young face as he rounded on Harry. "You cursed me to this body, boy!  You and your damned Sirius!  And now it's my turn to make you suffer!"

"You're just a child, Javen," Sirius said.  "A sad and angry little boy trapped in another boy's body.  What can you possibly do?"

"I can still do this, Black."  Harry gasped at the sudden pain invading his mind.  Javen's powers had only increased in time and he was holding nothing back.  He would destroy Harry's mind like a dementor until there was nothing left.

Sirius clenched his fist and pointed his wand at Javen.  "Release him, Derios!"

"Or what?"  Javen drawled.  "Kill me and you sign the boy's death warrant."  He released his grip on Harry's mind slightly anyway.  He was enjoying himself too much to end the boy just yet.  Oh, he didn't intend on killing Harry.  Just destroying him enough that he would never offer another threat to him again.

"You hate Death Eaters, Derios," Sirius snarled as he knelt to his son's side where he belonged.  "Why enlist one's help just to get to Harry?  Surely they've hurt you more than a mere boy."

"How could you know my pain, Black?  Your dear doting mother died while you were in prison and your great lug of a father is a slave to those self-proclaimed gods in the Ministry, too ashamed of himself to look at you.  How could you even dare to suggest to know my pain?"  He lifted his sleeve just enough to show Sirius the ugly black mark on him forearm.  "I've found a new family, Black.  One that will give me what I need."

"Voldemort killed your parents," Sirius hissed.  "Surely Harry isn't worth…"

"The pain of losing your parents is hard, Black," Javen interrupted, taking out his gun.  "The pain of a father's betrayal must be just as hard, you should at least understand that.  But the pain of losing your child, of being betrayed by that which owes you its life is worse in its own way.  I lost one to his own weakness and another to his selfish betrayal."  He pointed at Harry as he said this.  "This is unforgivable.  You know the pain that this one can bring.  You know why he must be dealt with."

Sirius shook his head sadly.  "I hurt him far more than he can hurt me.  As have you.  Let him be.  I'm asking you one last time."

"Then save your breath, dog!  The boy is a murderer.  You said so yourself."  Javen held his gun steady at the boy's head, but he did not pull the trigger.  He would not kill Harry for fear of killing himself.  And Sirius was fading quickly; in no time he would be too weak even to argue.  Javen was in complete control and he reveled in it.

"You're lying," Harry hissed, "You've always lied and I won't listen to it anymore."  Even from his sitting position on the ground he stared at the 11 year old Javen with burning intensity.

"Foolish boy thinks he knows so much," Javen smirked, "You knew what you were doing in that alleyway just down the road…"

"Shut up, Javen!" Harry shouted, "You made me do it.  It was all your fault!"

"I did nothing!  I could see into your mind.  That part you don't want anyone else to see.  I merely gave you what you asked for.  You wanted power; I gave it to you.  You were the one who wanted to kill the Auror.  I just wanted him out of the way!"  He stormed up to his two enemies, attention all on the boy before him.

"You're lying," growled Harry involuntarily edging toward Sirius.  Javen noticed and laughed.

"Am I lying about what you felt when you killed him?  Did you not feel satisfied?  Glad?  Proud?  Face it Potter.  You enjoyed your first kill."  He relaxed, knowing he had won.  All he needed now was the winning stroke.  "Just as you enjoyed the Dursleys' deaths.  I didn't even need to plant that one.  All you needed was to ask for the power to do it and I gave it to you."

"I didn't kill the Dursleys," Harry whispered.  Javen smirked.

"How would you know, boy?  You don't even remember that night.  Look at all the evidence.  Oh, you killed them all right.  As ruthlessly as when you killed the Auror."

Harry suddenly remembered the large bump he had on the head when the Aurors found him wandering in the streets.  Then it had seemed unimportant.  When he was checked for memory charms, they neglected to check for physical wounds since he complained of none.  Somehow, during that night, he was struck hard enough to leave him dazed and confused, bereft of even the memory of the night.

"I didn't kill anyone," he answered calmly.  "It was you and whatever help you managed to get."

Javen glowered at the pair, knowing his primary weapon against them for so long was now revealed for the lie it was.  "Aren't we a clever child.  20 points to Gryffindor."  His voice grew soft and dangerous and he knocked on the wall next to him.  "But are you clever enough to get away a second time?  There are no rocks here to bury old Javen with.  I hold your mind and soul and nothing you can do will change that."

"Then I'll tell you what I told the orcs," Harry said, "No one owns me.  No one ever will.  Least of all you!"

"And what do you intend on doing about it, boy?"  He laughed when no answer came.  "You are mine now.  Perhaps my new Master will even let me keep you when he is done with you."

"Kill him, Sirius," Harry whispered, barely believing he was saying the words.  "He'll never stop being a threat to the Light until he is dead."

Sirius knew he must have been losing more blood than he thought.  For Harry's sake he would do anything, including kill.  It was scary that a boy who he had only truly known for a few years had such a hold on him.  But he had never asked this of Sirius before.  Harry had saved Pettigrew's life even though he knew what he was.  Had he truly asked him to kill Javen and thereby ending his own life?

"Brave, clever child," chuckled their captor.  "But naïve.  _Expelliarmus!_"

The wand that Sirius had forgotten entirely about flew into Javen's waiting hands.  He twirled it playfully in a hand with the gun still trained at the boy's head.  Putting the wand into his back pocket, he drew closer to the pair.  That was when all hell broke loose.

*          *          *

Remus cursed himself for being so weak.  He had forgotten entirely about the damned silver ores that had prevented him from drawing near last time.  But he somehow managed to ignore the constricting of his heart enough to Apparate down to the rocky island below.  He walked around the collapsed cavern where the last battle with Javen had taken place.

It was impossible that anyone could have survived the cave-in.  How the hit-wizards even managed to recover Javen's body was beyond him.  Therefore, he knew it was a loose soul that he must be searching for.  Someone merely working on Javen's orders would never have gone so far or succeeded so much.  The other clues were too hard to ignore.

His pale hands shook uncontrollably as he used his keen senses to survey the area.  He could not stay there much longer if he wanted to prevent permanent damage.

Why had he shied away from Sirius' suspicions?  He had thought he was under proper control of his emotions, but apparently he wasn't.  When Sirius voiced the accusations leering in his heart, he knew he had to get away.  Yes, he had known.  He had known since before Harry did that there was something wrong.  Dumbledore had known of Harry's dreams from Hermione when she feared they were no longer under control.  With Sirius gone, Remus had been the first contacted.

It was Remus who had remarked lightly about the style Javen used around Harry.  Dumbledore had immediately suspected something amiss and the only lead they had was Harry himself.  Him and a small first year who everyone assumed was a distant relation of the Dark Wizard and had nothing to do with it.  They had assumed that the Sorting Hat would be able to see through any disguises one might don to appear as a student.  They had assumed wrong.

When it had been discovered that Harry was broken out of Azkaban, thought an impossible feat, Dumbledore immediately checked for the young first year.  He was gone.

'So it was the boy after all,' Remus mused.  'And we were too blind to know it until it was too late.'

His strong senses did not lie.  Even though he was breathing heavily now and a cold sweat was gracing his gentle features, he could tell that no one had been there for nearly a month.  That would leave only one other place…Dublin.  Quickly, he fumbled for his wand to Apparate himself from this horrid place.  Even the cool Irish breeze burned his throat with the high concentration of silver it carried.

"_Apa-aparatus!_" he rasped out, throat hoarse as though he had been screaming for a long time.  He was focused only on not splinching himself long enough to find Sirius and Harry.  He and Dumbledore were responsible for this whole mess, now it was up to them to make it right.

End Part 8

Katie: Don't worry about not figuring it out, my clues were rather small and hard to find. *hands you some aspirin.  I actually had every intention of stopping my HP bunny after SGNG, but these bunnies reproduce like you wouldn't believe.  The idea came and the hard part was just getting it all down.  You are totally correct about your theory about Javen.  He is so corrupted by the hate and pain he feels that he joins those who he claims to despise.  Brownie points to you for coming to that conclusion! ^_^ You'll see how Harry escapes.  Yeah, Voldemort doesn't really have a major role in it like last time, but I couldn't find a feasible way to stick him in.  And the answer to your questions about the Javen/Harry link and wandering soul phenomena is hopefully explained in this chapter.  No, I promise that there will be no horrible 'running from Sirius' phase.  It is too painful to read let alone write.  Smaller yes, but quicker.

Naughtynat: No, indeedy, it's not all over ;-D

Jpalmgren: Thanks for your faith in me, I'll keep your thoughts in mind so I don't mess up too bad. ^_^  

Anonymous: *****Passes out tissues * I'll put everyone back where I found them in… mostly perfect condition. I promise ;-) *blushes * I am nowhere near to where Iniga is.  She absolutely is the best writer I've found that works in HP fanfiction. I am totally humbled by her work, and by the works of many others that are too great to count. Thank you so much though!

Goku-chan2002: Thanks ^_^

Star Light: Oh, you think that's the only kick I'm giving him? *insert evil grin here * I'll try to keep it up to par for you!

Darkphoenix: You doubted me? ;-) Resolution is just around the corner my good friend. I'm not an avid fan of ridiculous chase scenes. It'll only be about 9-10 chapters long. And Sirius gets his own, trust me. He's in very capable hands and punishment shall be dealt. No, Remus doesn't exactly know, but he will and he will have some things to tell his dear old friend. But he also has a verbal slap too. Don't forget, he knew about this from the get-go.

Alexa Black- Well, yeah, he did. He's not a stupid guy… just not too bright. Besides, he really didn't have much of a way out without kissing another term buh-bye. And our Sirius is back! Your space bar seems to work from my end, that's weird. 0_o*  Crying? From laughing?  Now what in the world was so funny? 0_o *sigh * I just don't understand you, Alexa. ^_^ I thought Rabbit needed to smack some sense in Sirius and the flashback was to hold off any Sirius lynchers.  I'm so glad you liked it!

Neutral- Neutral!  You've actually been following my work? *blushes * I'm glad you like it, because I'm an avid fan of yours.  I've been bad too in that I've read your stories for literally months and never posted until recently.  I think of Sirius as stubborn as well, and I thought I did a better job of him in 'Say Goodnight…'.  I'm actually pretty happy with my Harry interpretation in this one though.  This story is just beginning to irritate me and I don't know why.  Maybe it's just because it's gone on for so long.  Have you ever felt like that?  I hope all your questions have been answered in this story.  Thank you so much! ^_^

HermioneG15- Thank you, I'm glad you liked it!  All the answers to your questions are in this chapter.  Javen used the linking spell to take over and kill his son so he could use his body.  Voldemort could do it without killing as long as he had a willing host, but Javen isn't that good.  He wanted all control or nothing.  But your guesses throughout the whole thing have been extremely close.  Almost scary sometimes ;)

Starlette- Many people said the same thing to me.  I'm going to give a full explanation of all this at the end of the story since many are unsatisfied.  Trust me and wait for it ^_^  Yeah, poor Harry.  Is he going to be evil now that he's been hurt?  You reviewers are amazing!  That's one of the issues my story is going to address towards the end of the story.  You all must read my mind or something…

RavenLady- Thank, I appreciate your support!

Relle- *big hug! * I'm sorry, but at least we explained everything so you could beta this one.  I'm glad I got a hold of you again.  I hope your vacation was fun (at least, I think you said it was a vacation.)  Whatever it was, I'll never forget to include you, don't worry ^_^

A.Dee- That memory was just for you ^_^  I want you to love him, because his 'punishment' isn't all over.  I love him to pieces and I want everyone to too!

Tash- I try my best ^_^

Lanfear- Thank you!  But don't hate Sirius! Why does everyone hate him now *sobs * And I don't even hate Javen.  He's a victim too you know. Oh, well. I write as quickly as I can believe it or not. See you around!

Frizzy- I try, I really do, but my life is crazy. I'm lucky if I can even TOUCH a computer once a week. But I'll try even harder for you!

Black panther- Don't you just hate computers sometimes? I'm glad I reached your expectations, this story is starting to irritate me some. Probably because it's taking forever and absolutely REFUSES to write itself. You like my Sirius and Harry? ^_^ I'm so glad. I liked my Sirius better in the first one though he's more developed in this one. Angst and comedy are just about the only things I can write, so you won't have any shortage of that. No, never shut up! I love to hear from everyone, you especially. You have been very supportive of me and I appreciate that. My name? Oh, yeah, you're not the only one who's had a problem. It's pronounced Tie-ra. Don't let the funky spelling confuse you. The 'y' is silent.

Brookecndn- Thank you! I will do my best!

Black panther- You again? Just kidding! I'm sooooooo sorry! You have no idea how hectic my life is. I'm lucky if I get to touch a computer once a week now. But I do try. *cries * I really am sorry! Oh, you saw that review too, huh? From 'Say Goodnight…' I expect. Yeah, it definitely chopped a bit off my day when I read it. I hate it when people come out and accuse me right out and hide behind an anonymous review so I can't even contact them to correct them or stand up for myself. There is a story behind that accusation, but they didn't give me a chance. Grrr! But thanks for your support again. ^_^ I need it sometimes. I've taken all the time I need. Here's the next chapter for ya! Thanks a lot!

Dazed and confused- OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK! ^_^ I get the point. Here it is!


	9. I Never Thought I'd Lose

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, has it really been 2 months?  Life seemed to get a bit more complicated with senior year, colleges, scholarships, and liver blood tests.  Oy!  Anyone have a clone machine handy?  I'm sending this out without any beta work done on it, so there are probably some mistakes.  I just wanted to get this out as soon as possible for you guys waiting so patiently. *gives you a big hug * Here is the 9th installment of 'Crushed Velvet.'  It should probably wrap itself up in 10 – 11 chapters at the most.

Oh, did anyone buy the new movie yet?  I did first day.  It is absolutely applaudable and it actually was the kicker I needed to get off my lazy butt and finish this chapter.  It had been hanging around 8 pages and I needed my 10 to post.

Part 9: I Never Thought I'd Lose

Harry waited until he could feel the frigid breath of Javen on his face before he struck.  He knew he would have only one chance to fight back before all was lost.  Jumping for the gun, he used his superior size against the childish form of his enemy.  However, he was sluggish since he couldn't see very much.  The world around him flashed between light and dark blurs.

Javen was surprised by the sudden move, giving Harry the upper hand.  However, he soon adapted to this combat and fought back fiercely.  Harry may have been bigger and stronger than the 12-year-old form of Robert, but Javen was quicker.  Using his smaller size to his advantage, he twisted away from his young quarry, refusing to relinquish his muggle toy.

Sirius stood up quickly seeing his son fighting for control of the gun.  A sharp pain slashed across his stomach and he nearly fainted.  But he would not lay down and let the son of his heart fight for his very life.  He circled the pair, waiting for an opening to move in and take over, all the while, his left hand dug into his wound and blocked the free flow of blood.

Javen grit his teeth and stared hatefully at the child before him.  Harry was the most infuriating boy ever to exist!  It was no wonder that the Dark Lord could not kill him so easily.  He had a nasty habit of evading the most clever traps.  How had his plan gone so terribly wrong?

He had been overconfident.  He had underestimated the boy again.  It was a fatal mistake.

Javen twisted his wand around to face Harry.  At the same time, he withdrew from the boy's mind almost completely, barely maintaining the link.  He was not worried about Sirius now.  As long as he kept the boy in relative danger, the old man could not interfere.  He pointed the wand at the boy's chest, straight at the heart.

"You no longer amuse me, boy," he hissed.  "Whether Lord Voldemort wants you unbroken or not, I don't care.  You are a pain in my mind.  One I will remove."

"Kill me and you kill yourself, Javen," Harry returned trying to get a good grip on the twisting boy beneath him.  He was too small and slid easily out of every grasp.  He felt his heart skip a beat when he felt the thin wand between his ribs.

"Ah, but you forget, child.  The strongest person in the link can control it.  I do not need you to survive, but you need me.  I'm willing to lose some power over you.  _Crucio!_"

Harry had been subject to this curse before; he had had it rip through his body and leave him quaking in pain and fear.  But then it had just been a ploy to make him afraid.  Voldemort was merely playing with him.  Now Javen was aiming to harm.  He was not playing nor trying to make him afraid.  He was trying to kill him with the maximum amount of pain possible.  His heart strained under the pressure, beating irregularly to keep him alive.  His ribs felt as though they were being ripped apart.  He did not know if he screamed, but it did not matter if he did.  His body was screaming on its own for release.  His hands locked into fists on Javen's clothes, rigid with pain and unable to loosen.  Javen stumbled with him, trying to get loose from the tightened fists that was bruising his young skin.

For Sirius, this was the last straw.  He saw his opportunity and took it.  Running straight into the middle of the boys, he pushed Javen and Harry away from each other.  He heard Harry's cry as he fell, but he couldn't do anything about that now.  The curse was broken and Javen was left gingerly holding the parts of him that Harry had grabbed in his pain.  He looked up at Sirius, a flicker of fear flicking through his icy blue eyes briefly.  He had angered Sirius like he had angered him in the cave.  No wound would stop him until he had finished this fight one way or another.

But, he also knew, he still had the advantage.  Sirius was close enough for Javen to feel his weak shallow breaths on his face.  He was weaker than before and no matter how much he would try to hold it off, death was only lurking minutes away.

Sirius had seen the small instant of fear in the child's eyes and for an instant saw a bit of himself.  The moral part of him, the part that still refused to let him strike a child, sympathized with his plight.  The pain he had gone through had twisted him into something unrecognizable.  But he could not allow himself to give in now.  There was no child before him, only a Dark wizard.  He had to protect Harry.  He would protect him.

Javen pulled up the gun from behind his back and tried to shoot.  Sirius was ready this time and jarred the child's arm, avoiding the shot meant for his head.  Javen switched tactics.  He could not pull away from Sirius, he was too strong, but he could barrel into him.  Feinting a blow to Sirius' head, he gave a harsh punch to his middle instead.  He dove into the man, driving him to the floor.

Sirius was nearly blinded by the pain and his systems screamed for him to stop.  The fight would end very soon for him whether he defeated Javen or not.  Working on pure auto-pilot, he flipped Javen over his head, using the wizard's small body against him.  Then he dove for the gun again.  In the scuffle for the weapon, Javen was forced to drop his wand, relinquishing it to Sirius' control.  Sirius' own wand was still secure in Javen's pocket, but this one would do just fine.

As a child, Sirius could outduel nearly anyone.  Years of experience as a pranker coupled with natural talent made him a formidable foe.  And it was now that he proved Professor McGonagal wrong when she said he would never accomplish anything if he insisted on playing with silly tricks when he could be building up his skill.  

'Well, skill this, Professor,' he mentally grinned pointing his wand at Javen's chest.

_"Waddiwasi!"_ he barked watching with some satisfaction as Javen was thrown many feet in the air.  Slamming his back against the wall, Javen barely registered what had happened before he found himself falling onto his stomach many feet below.  He brought his gun forward and put his finger on the trigger.  By God, he would not lose to this insufferable mongrel!  He landed hard on the ground, firing as he landed.  His aim was truer than even he knew, the bullet's aim crumpling to the floor soundlessly.

*          *            *

Remus stumbled up the small incline leading from the small Irish lake.  Two mermaids, basking in the soft moonlight, sang to him, bidding him to join them.  He paid them no heed, thinking only of his destination.  Unlike his friend, he knew the sound of a firing gun quite well.  Years of travel throughout the world, Muggle and Wizard alike, had taught him a few things about conventional weapons.  So it was with a frantic heart that he clambered the last few steps to the small cottage.

"Sirius!" he called, pushing the door open.  The last vestiges of a failing protection shield vanished at his insistent presence, leaving him free to enter.  "Siri-" He stopped suddenly, nearly tripping over a soft body.  Harry lay at his feet, breathing irregularly, but alive nonetheless.  He was unconscious, blissfully oblivious to the iron-tainted smell of the air.  Blood was spilt this night, he knew.  It didn't take a werewolf to smell the death hanging in this building.

"Here," a soft whisper broke through the daze Remus was left in.  He looked over to where Sirius stood staring at a huddled heap on the floor.  His friend was chalk white and his left fist dug into his stomach where his robes were sopping wet.  The back of his robes were likewise soaked, though not nearly so bad.  The dark circles beneath his eyes were deeper and darker than before, sunken into his face with illness.

"Sirius, what happened?  Why are you bleeding?" he asked, using a calm voice that didn't reflect his state of mind.  He struggled to maintain a cool and collected façade, if not for his friend, for himself.

Sirius gave the huddled form one last pained glance before moving a foot forward to Remus.  The werewolf could only thank his quick reflexes for catching Sirius when he did.  He was startled to feel the true dampness of Sirius' robes.  All that couldn't be blood, could it?  Surely not all his.

"Sirius, look at me," he ordered lowering his friend gently to the ground.  Sirius obeyed, blue eyes glazing.  "Where did he shoot you?"

"Shoot?" Sirius shook his head confused.

"With the gun, Padfoot, where?"

"Stomach.  Said it took longest to die from.  Been too long.  Tired, Remus…"

Remus swore softly under his breath.  He took out his wand and pointed it at the fireplace.  "_Incendio!_"  The flames grew from the cold ash, warming the small cabin and illuminating the thick darkness surrounding them.  Calling St. Mungo's, Remus placed a request for two Healers with experience with Muggle weapons.  They responded, telling him to hold on for a few minutes while the got together the proper materials.

"Hold on, Padfoot," he assured him, "Just stay awake for me and you'll be okay."

Sirius nodded, apathetic to his own plight.  He just relaxed, turning troubled eyes upon the curled up bundle again.  A haunted glaze covered him and Remus could not imagine what had occurred to give him that look.

"I need to see to Harry, Sirius," Remus said, eyeing the strange heap.  "Can I leave you while I do that?  You must stay awake."

Sirius nodded again, still emotionless.  This troubled Remus, but he could do nothing about that right then.  He gently placed Sirius on the floor, removing his overcloak to press against the wound while he was away.  He made his way to Harry's side, angry with himself that he could do nothing more.  He was no Healer and he could not move anyone away from the building for fear of furthering the harm done already.

Scooping up the teenager, he did a quick check of him.  He fought down the growing lump in his throat as he took in the oversized prison robes and green-yellow bruises gracing his soft face.  A new purple bruise was beginning to form on his forehead where it seemed he was struck recently.  His breathing became ever more erratic with the growing moments.  His pulse reflected his weakening state, frightening the helpless werewolf.

"Oh, Harry," he whispered, "Please hold on.  Don't leave us, we just got you back."  He cradled the child closer to him like the baby he fondly remembered.  Harry only shuddered in response, drifting further away.  Remus lay him near Sirius, hoping against all hope that somehow the simple presence of his friends would offer comfort to the other.  It was all he could do and he hated himself for it.  Where were those damned Healers?!

"Still alive?" murmured Sirius in a soft, dreamy voice.  At first Remus thought Padfoot was making one of his dry humorous remarks, but then he looked to where Sirius stared.  Sirius hadn't even looked away from the mysterious bundle to Harry, as though afraid to look away.  As though it would move if he didn't keep a vigilant eye on it.  "See, Remus.  Still alive."

"Shh, Padfoot," he soothed, "Rest and save your strength.  I need you to stay strong, alright?"

"Look, Remus," Sirius insisted, moving a thin hand to clutch Remus' overcloak tighter against his stomach.

"Only if you rest," Remus conceded.  Not waiting for his friend's nod, he got up and walked over to the crumpled form near the capsized table.  Once he got closer, he could see that it was no bundle at all, but a young child curled in on itself.  The child was alive, but wheezing and shaking in pain.  Every now and then it let out a pitiful whimper of fear.  Remus' heart went out to the lad.

"Are you alright, young one?" he asked gently rolling the child over onto his back.  He stepped back in amazement as he gazed into the face of young Robert.  This was the one they were looking for.  Javen was in there somewhere; possessing the innocent child.  But as he looked on, he saw no sign of the dark wizard in the young blue eyes clouded with pain.  Was it possible that Javen was able to move on to another body?

"Papa," gasped the child, blue eyes widening.  He clutched his chest in pain.  "Papa did this.  Sir, help.  Please.  He made me… told me not to fight."

Remus saw the gaping wound in the child's chest where the bullet was lodged.  In his attempt to fire the weapon, he had shot himself.  Remus shook his head sadly.  Were the young always to suffer for the foolishness of their elders?  It appeared that way.

Bending over to scoop up Robert, he felt the barrel of a cold muzzle against his neck.  He stared into the sapphire eyes, still clouded with pain, but no longer masked.  "We all die here, wolf," Javen hissed, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth.  "But maybe you first."  He squeezed the trigger using the last amount of strength he possessed.  He would see Remus' eyes glaze with the look of death even if it meant all hope for him was lost.  He was hollow inside and out.  What did he care if he died?  What more pain could he endure in death that he had not suffered in life?

Remus heard the click of the trigger and expected it to be the last thing he ever heard.  He was surprised, therefore, to find his head still safely attached to its proper spot.  Opening his gray eyes he saw the gun fall from Javen's hand to the ground as the wizard was no longer strong enough to hold its weight.  The last bullet had been spent in his chest, and he had fired an empty weapon upon Remus.  The wolf stared at the childish face, unable to look away as it expired.  There was nothing he could do and both knew it.

"I don't fear death," Javen spat at Remus defensively.  "So wipe that damned look of pity off your face!"

"I'm sorry, Javen," Remus said softly.  And he meant it.  "I'm sorry things had to turn out like this."

"I'm not done yet, wolf," Javen hissed coughing up dark liquid.  His young hands, far too young to be so ashen, loosened his top cloak latches to give himself more air.  He was in a cold sweat and his voice no longer flowed like honey and silk.  "I will never be done."

"Find some peace, Javen," Remus said sadly.  "Let go of your hatred for just a moment."

"Peace?" he scorned.  "Save your breath, Lupin.  I'll find no peace until justice is served."

"Justice?" Remus asked incredulously,  "What justice do you find here?"

"The boy dies, wolf.  With my last breaths, I steal his.  Your pet dog will last little longer."  He coughed again and his eyes grew dim.  "I am immortal, Lupin.  This body may die and rot, but this kind of immortality doesn't need a body.  This kind of immortality transcends death itself."  He grew still as he said these words and the coughing ceased.  The struggle for breath was over, and his eyes grew glassy and pale in the soft firelight.  The harsh lines, not belonging on a face so young, grew soft once more; relieved of the harsh man behind that soft flesh.

Remus shook his head, surprised to find tears brimming at his eyes.  He reached over and closed the youthful eyes.  Covering the body with the small overcloak, he returned to Sirius and Harry's side.  Sirius had drifted into a deep sleep that Remus no longer had the strength to draw him from, and Harry had begun to shake and convulse with Javen's dying breaths.  

Remus pulled the teenager into his lap and held him tightly, giving in to his body's wish and letting the silvery tears fall.  He buried his face into Harry's hair and focused every ounce of his raw magic into the boy's tormented body.  He knew of no spell that could save Harry or Sirius, for their wounds weren't any that he was familiar with.  He was no Muggle surgeon and could not begin to know how to counter the ancient curse Javen had inflicted.  So instead, he unleashed the magical power he was born with into Harry, hoping that he could stave off the aftereffects of the curse for as long as was needed until the Healers came.

And he was still in that distressed state that the Healers found him only minutes later.  He did not remember the journey through the fireplace into the wizarding hospital.  The last thing he could remember was a gentle hand pulling Harry from him, coaxing him into letting go.

*          *            *

"I need that potion _now_!"

"Nurse!  Levitate him here!"

"He's drifting off again!"

"I won't let him."

"Sirius, what are you…"

"Let me by!"

"Who are you?"

"You're not well enough."

"Security!"

"Get him out of here!"

"He's my son!"

"You need to rest, Sirius.  You just…"

"He's fading!"

"Please!"

"Let him through."

"He's not strong enough to hold it!"

"Let me try!"

"But what if…"

"Then we both go."

"Let him try."

"I need a wand."

"Give the man a wand, Nurse."

"I don't see how that will…"

"It's too late!"

"He's gone!"

"Stand back!"

"Go ahead, Padfoot."

"_Contiosa Botaya!"_

*          *            *

The world was a blurred distortion when he first opened his eyes.  Harry shut his eyes again quickly as the light became too much for him to take in.  He was vaguely aware of a weird smell.  Sterile.  Familiar.  Were he in any other position, he may have found it humorous to be once again in the hospital.  He may even have cracked a smile if not chuckled.  But he didn't.  It hurt too much even for a cheerful thought.  Everything hurt.  Even his soul.

"I know you're awake, Harry," said a soft gentle voice.  "But you should really be asleep.  You've gone through a great ordeal."  Harry risked the harsh morning sun if only to see Remus' face.  His was a face that could convince him that everything could turn out alright.  Just the knowing look in his eye and calm smile could assure anyone that all was right with the world.  He was sorely disappointed to see, then, that Remus had no such air of omnipotence.  He looked haggard and drained of every last vestige of energy he possessed.  His soft gray eyes reflected the weariness of Harry's own soul.

Conscious of Harry's scrutiny, he reached over to the nightstand beside the cot.  Putting something on the boy's face, Harry was relieved to find that he could finally see straight for the first time in months.  The lack of glasses was a poverty that left him feeling vulnerable and it was not a welcome feeling.

"I trust that is better?" Remus asked finally granting his young charge a smile.  Harry did not smile back, but did answer in the affirmative.

"You had us worried for a while.  Once we knew you would be alright, everyone has been trying to see you," Remus continued. "Padfoot has been driving us nuts.  In the end, we had to sedate him just to keep him in his room."

He saw Harry's eyes grow dark at the mention of Sirius.  He could tell when Harry mentally drew back into himself; he had seen Sirius do the same. Perhaps a subconscious defense from Azkaban?  He didn't know, but he didn't like the change he saw.  He sighed wearily.  "Harry, please don't withdraw like that.  You cannot escape him."

"But he can escape me, right?  He can just drop me and everything's fine, but when I decide to push him away, I'm not allowed to."  Harry's voice was low and bitter.  This Harry was not the Harry that Remus knew from 3rd year.  His Harry would not have said such things.

"This is not the time for harsh words," Remus gently rebuked.  "You have just recovered from a very serious affliction, and you need all your strength to heal.  Everything will be worked out later."

The boy's hard jade eyes grew softer and misted slightly.  "Last time I was here," he said, "You told me that you couldn't pretend that everything would be alright.  How can you pretend now?"

Remus saw that his words would not be taken to heart.  Nothing short of a strong sleeping spell would quiet Harry's mind, nor make him focus his energies into healing.  So, begrudgingly, he forced himself to answer, looking to end the conversation as soon as possible.

"I remember saying that, but I also remember saying that you needed to let go of your feelings of guilt and anger in order to heal.  And right now, you need to heal.  We will talk about this more later on.  Your anger will do nothing but slow your progress."

"But…"

"If you don't fall asleep right now, I will cast a sleeping spell on you," he threatened.  It was no light threat and Harry knew it.  So, reluctantly, he lay his head back on the pillow and shut his eyes, trying to quench the swirl of emotions long enough to fall asleep.

Remus stayed there until he knew the boy was really asleep.  He cast a spell to make his sleep dreamless and deep before heading to the door.  The long discussion ahead would drain everyone and he needed some rest as well.

*          *            *

Sirius lay awake in his cot staring at the ceiling.  The Healers had made sure that he was properly paralyzed so that he could not sneak out again.  He mentally huffed at them since he could not do so physically.  They had no right to do this to him!  He just wanted to be near Harry; just to see that he was truly alright.  He hadn't seen him since he first burst into the room when they arrived.  Remus had let him in despite the protests and then chaos ensued.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the memory.  Harry had been slipping ever so slowly until he hit rock bottom in the Healer's room.  What had possessed him to do what he did, he would never know.  But he knew that the only way to save his son was for someone to take on the curse that Javen had abandoned.  The others had known it as well, but would not perform it for fear of the many risks involved.  Sirius was terrified.  But he had done what was needed of him without any hesitation.  He would do it again if it meant the safety of his son.  But oh, what in the world had he gotten himself into?

In the back of his mind, he could hear the unquiet rustles of another mind.  Harry was asleep, but distressed.  He was afraid.  Some small part of him that he could only call instinctive recognized the magical link and yearned to reach out to the other end.  However, he was afraid to.  He did not want to cause any more trouble to his son than he had done so already.  Harry had been so abused with that link, Sirius was afraid that nothing he could do would lessen the harm Javen caused.

Javen… just the thought of that man made Sirius nervous and even more anxious to see to Harry.  He had known Javen since they were boys in school.  And never did he imagine losing Javen to the darkness that had claimed the traitorous Wormtail.  He feared that Javen's prediction would come true; the curse that the body snatcher laid upon him with his dying breathes.

_//Sirius stared wide-eyed at the crumpled form of his enemy.  He held Javen's wand tightly, ready for whatever trick the dark wizard had up his sleeve.  But he knew from the dark puddle of blood pooling around the small child that this could be no act.  Javen had destroyed himself with his own weapon._

_He raised the wand again when Javen moved.  But the wizard only turned himself onto his back, struggling to breathe.  He knew his wound and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would drift off never to again waken._

_"It's over, Derios," Sirius said evenly.  "You've lost again.  But this time I fear it may be for the last time."_

_"You think I'm so easily destroyed, Black?" Javen laughed weakly, clutching his chest similar to the way Sirius was holding his own wound._

_"You bloody well shot yourself, Javen," Sirius stated incredulously.  "How can you possibly believe you've won?"_

_Javen smiled grimly, a smile that was out of place on such an otherwise charming and angelic face.  "How can you say that you won?  I will live forever.  Nothing can destroy my memory.  I live on through you and your little brat if he manages to live long enough.  Not a day will go by when you won't think of me.  How I wish I could see the fear in your eyes as you contemplate it.  What if you become like me?  What if you hit your child in punishment and you don't stop?  What is stopping you from letting the hate consume you as it did poor old Javen?  You have had your share of pain.  Who knows when or how it will be released._

_"And your boy.  Even if he survives my demise, how will he ever survive my memory?  What will stop him from hating as I do, sick and tired of being abused and pushed around all his life?  My, my… what little things can scar a child these days.  You and I… we are not so different.  He's a bright child by most standards and it will not be long before he sees me in your eyes.  And when he turns from you to join a more noble cause, be it for the dictators in the Ministry or for the Dark Lord himself, it will be with malice in his heart."_

_"You're wrong, Javen," Sirius said shaking his head.  "You were always wrong and you're wrong now."_

_"Am I?" Javen grinned again despite the pain he felt.  "A Muggle could smell the fear in you.  If I'm so wrong, why are you shaking?  Could it be that I pushed one of your buttons, Black?  Is it so hard seeing your precious angel garbed in black robes and white mask?  My, what sweet irony that would be, wouldn't it?"_

_"Shut up, Javen!"  Sirius yelled pointing the wand at Javen angrily.  The images were all too vivid and he couldn't take the taunting anymore.  "If you're going to die, then do it already!"_

_"Are you so eager to see the boy die?  Does he cause you that much pain?"  Not receiving nor expecting an answer, Javen nevertheless grew silent and rested himself.  He may have a chance yet and he would not waste it.  Besides, he said all that was needed.  The seeds of doubt had been planted and he could do no more to ensure his immortality.  Sirius just stood there staring at his nemesis, unable to form one coherent thought as his life trickled out between his slick fingers.//_

End Part 9

Responses!

A.Dee: Geez, people!  I'm nice to him, you want angst.  I shot him in the stomach, you want me to save him.  Decide!  ^_^  Who me?  Kill him? O ;-)  Trust me… *cackles evily * Oh, and worrying about Harry would probably be a good thing too right now.

Snowman:  Thank you!  Oh, I definitely intend for Siri to sweat it out for a while.  Just cause I shot him doesn't mean all is right with the world.  I love Sirius too, incase it's hard to tell. ^_^ Shooting him doesn't really display much affection, does it?

Star Light:  Thanks!  Great to be back.

Alexa Black:  Yay! Your space bar works again! *does a little dance * You'll get it soon, I promise.  If not, tell me and I'll write you a nice big explanation.  It's probably my bad if you're confused.

HermioneG15:  I'm sorry I haven't sent stuff for you to Beta.  I was hoping on sending you some fresh new stuff when it comes around.  If you want, you're more than welcome to beta this chapter or any others you want.  I need all the help I can get.  Javen demented? Oh yeah.  But you'll see what happens… eventually. ;)

Relle:  But you say you love every chapter, you goof! ^_^ I'll change my e-mail settings for ya, hopefully it'll work better.  I'm sorry I couldn't e-mail this one for you to beta.  Some people were getting impatient *looks at Black Panther ;) * Could you do this one anyway?  I'm sure I need the help.  Oh, and do you have AOL instant messenger?  If we can coincide times, we could make things run smoother from both ends.  E-mail me if you do.

Black Panther:  What would I do without you, hun?  I tried for Sunday, but Monday will have to do.  Oh, I most definitely won't let Sirius get away with it.  You'll see.  And no, I'm not much of a slash fan.  I don't mind if other people do it, but it's not my style.  Angst is the way to go!  You want 10 more chapters?! Woah, I don't think that'll happen with this one, but maybe another one.  Actually, I just got another idea for this timeline besides the prequel.  It's more of a sequel to all 7 books.  Are you interested in writing it with me?  I would love to work with you on something.

Lanfear:  *hides under bed * I didn't say you had to agree or sympathize with his position.  That's just the way he is and how he got there.  I can't promise updates as speedy as I would like, but I'll do my best.  Believe me, this really is as fast as I can do it.  And don't worry, we all need muses to keep us in line.

Twilight:  *Hands out some brand name 'Ti's Tissues.' *  Why is it that I make people cry?  It's either because it's so bad it's sad or that I actually managed to write half decently.  An 'Elfie'?  That's the derogatory name orcs use for the inmates.  Kind of like calling Muggle borns 'mudbloods'.  It's meant to refer to House Elves and how badly they are looked upon.

Kateydidnt:  Okay!

Black Panther:  You again? ^_^  I'm here.  I'm ok… sort of.  Has it really been 2 months?  Wow, I was gone much longer than I expected.  And I was doing so well with the updating too. :_(  No, it wasn't a bad review although they do dampen my spirits some.  Especially that one from SGNG, but that's a whole nother story.  And no, I don't think it's laziness, it's a combo of having a rough life and a rogue muse.  Remember what I said about collaborating.  Oh, and do you have a screen name for AOL?  I'd like to talk to you in person sometime.  Y'know, just to bounce ideas around.


	10. This Too Shall Pass

A/N: Just so everyone knows, the last bit in Part 9 was a conversation that occurred between the time when Javen shot himself and when Remus appeared.  Sirius is just remembering it.  *Sigh *… I really need to deport Rabbit.  He seems to have grown on me a little too much.  For those of you who don't want Sirius to have an easy job of forgiveness, I hope this is satisfactory.  I thought this would be one of the hardest scenes to get through, and it ended up being one of the easiest.  Go figure!  Oh, and this chapter has some language in it that may not be suitable for everyone.  Nothing major, Siri just gets a little carried away sometimes the poor dear. ^_^

Part 10: This Too Shall Pass

"You do realize, of course, that he really doesn't want to see you?"

"Thank you, Mr. Tact."

Rabbit held up his hands in mock defense.  "I'm only stating the facts, Snuffles."

"A little bit of sensitivity would do a world of good for you, Rabbit. Do you know that?"

"Tried it.  I found it cramps my style."

"Bloody Americans," Sirius muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Snuffles?  I don't think I heard you right."

"You would make an absolutely barbaric Englishman, Rabbit."

"Ahh, my friend, what is an American but an absolute barbaric Englishman?"

"I am rendered speechless by your wit," he replied dryly.  Rabbit laughed heartily as they made their way through the halls.

"Miracles upon miracles, Snuffles!  I, the 'Savage American', have rendered the Master of Speech, speechless!  Stay right there while I call 'The Weekly Warlock'."

"Aren't you due for deportation any time now?"

"Not until tomorrow, my canine friend."

"And you have nothing better to do, than to drive me mad?"

"Not drive you mad, Snuffles, but _prepare_ you."

"Prepare me?  For what?  The 'funny farm', as you Yanks so eloquently dub it?"

"Why for this."  Sirius was surprised to see that they had arrived at Harry's door already.  He could hear Remus' soft voice as he spoke to Harry.  About what, he could only imagine.

"How could you possibly prepare…"

"There are enough sorrows in the world, Sirius," Rabbit said sobering in the blink of an eye.  "Laughter is the cure for all pain.  I'm just giving you an overdose of it so that no matter what happens in that room, you will always remember laughter."

"You make it sound like I'm on the way to the guillotine," Sirius laughed nervously.  Rabbit's eyebrows raised.

"You may as well be.  A hurt child, the guillotine, it makes no difference.  I've been a father long enough to know this."

Sirius stood there for a moment, collecting himself.  Why was this so difficult?  Why could he not even face a 15-year-old boy?  What was there to be frightened of?  He remembered the look of pain that dashed across that young face on the other side of an Azkaban window and knew what it was he feared.

"You'll never know unless you try, Snuffles," Rabbit whispered, seeing the conflict.  "Do what Castor can't find it in himself to do."  He knew the allusion to the Auror would only get Sirius even more jittery, but he also knew it would serve its purpose.

Without any further word, Sirius opened the door.

*          *            *

Remus sighed in relief as he saw his friend enter through the door.  He had feared that Padfoot would not be able to go through with the first meeting.  Sure, the doctors had to practically curse the man to get him away from Harry's side, but this would be a full confrontation between father and son.  Whatever happened, it may all rest in the hands of these two.  Could the rift be sealed, or would it remain forever an ugly scar in both, already scarred, people?

"What took you, Padfoot?" he asked quietly to ease the tension.  "Did you get lost on the way?"

"No," said Sirius looking relieved to be able to speak freely.  "Captain America here kept me longer than I intended."

An indignant 'harrumph' came through the closed door and they heard said Unspeakable stalk away down the halls, presumably to harass someone else in his boredom.

Even Harry had to smile at the comical antics of the three men.  He missed that sorely: just being able to relax in the comfort of friends.  It made him long for Ron and Hermione all the more.  Perhaps Remus would let them come for a visit later.

"I'll see if I can prevent Rabbit from driving the medical staff to madness," Remus said by way of departure.  Sirius got the hint and allowed his friend to leave.  An uncomfortable silence passed with the absence of the gentle werewolf.

"What's that in your hand?" Harry asked curiously, staring at some papers in Sirius' hands.  His tone was not friendly and inviting, but restrained and sullen.

Sirius mentally grimaced.  This was not the way he would start things off.  He nervously fiddled with the documents and sat down in Remus' chair near the head of the boy's bed.  "Ah, this… well… I'm not quite sure if I should begin with that."

Harry was shocked to see that Sirius was stuttering over his words.  He had never seen his guardian at such a loss of what to say.  They must be important if Sirius himself could not find his infamous voice.  He bitterly reflected that he had had no such vocal problems in Azkaban.

Sirius unfolded the documents and swiftly scanned over them.  He looked back up into the large green eyes and knew he could not start it this way.  He finally found his voice to say what was needed.  "I'll get to them," he promised.  "But there are a few things I need to get off my chest first.  T-to make it easier."

He could not break his gaze from the boy who sat there looking so calmly at him.  A faint tingling in the back of his mind told him that Harry was anything but calm.  It would be best if he got things out into the open before they festered further.

"Harry, you have to believe me when I say that I was never angry with you," he started.  "I was angry with myself.  Scared too."

"Scared?  Of what, Sirius?  You weren't the one under arrest for murder," Harry countered.  "You didn't have those Orcs breathing down your neck."

"I know what it is like.  I was in the same position you were.  And I know how frightening it can be.  God, this whole thing was like reliving my own 'trial'.  Everything was moving so fast… I couldn't take it all in right.  There are so many reasons why I snapped at you and none of them have anything to do with you.  I was terrified and I panicked.  I'm so sorry, Harry."

"So how does that help?  Is everything fine now that you've revealed to me your little secret?" Harry's voice did not belong to a cheerful 15-year-old student.  His was a voice that knew what it was to cry out and received no answer.  Javen's words came back to haunt Sirius: _"And when he turns from you to join a more noble cause, be it for the dictators in the Ministry or for the Dark Lord himself, it will be with malice in his heart."_

"Dammit, Harry, you're not making this any easier," he snapped before he could stop himself.  But Harry was ready for his temper to flare again and matched it with his own.

"And just what about this is supposed to be easy, Sirius?" Harry demanded.  "This isn't a game.  I trusted you to take care of me!  We were supposed to be a family!  And families love and trust each other no matter what; at least that's what I thought it was.  My experience has been rather limited with them."  The underlying accusation was not concealed from his voice and Sirius winced visibly as though he had been struck.  Harry already knew he blamed himself for that, why bring it up?

"No," Sirius whispered, the wind gone out of his temper.  "That's what a family is.  You're right, Harry.  You're right about everything." And you're right about that last bit too.

"Sirius, I'm 15 years old.  I can't keep our family together just by myself.  And I'm tired of trying to."

"I understand.  I know what it's like to keep trying and getting nowhere.  My father left me the second he heard I was arrested.  He didn't want my so-called crime to stain the family name."

"Let me guess," shot back Harry.  "The second you heard I was arrested, you knew everyone would be looking at you again.  You would be associated with murder again.  So you did the same thing that your father did: you ran from it.  Well, if that's the way the Black family acts toward each other when they are in trouble, then I don't want any part of it!"

"I did not run," Sirius replied, hurt shining in his eyes.  "I would have died before I left you.  I did many horrible things to you, but I did not leave you."

"Then what do you call—"

"I call it an executive order from the Ministry.  I was forced to relinquish custody.  There was no way I could refuse it without landing you in more trouble.  No, Harry, I thought I had told you this before: you could become the second Voldemort and I would still love you.  I may not side with you, I may even be against you, but my love will never die for you.  You are my son in my heart if in no other way.

"But you are right when you say that I betrayed you.  Giving you to the Ministry was against my control.  Using it as a weapon against you was not.  Maybe I just wanted someone else to feel hurt like I did.  I hurt you and abused the trust and love you had for me… just like Javen."  The last part came out in a whisper as Sirius realized the horrible truth that the dark wizard told him about.  Just like Javen…

"You really thought I was guilty, didn't you?"  Sirius could see that just those 3 words had the same horrid effect on Harry that it did on him.

"God, I didn't know what to think.  Everything said that you did it, but I refused to listen.  But it fit so well together that I began to think I was wrong about you.  That I had failed you like I failed Wormtail; that I had lost you to Javen or to whatever it was that pushed you over the edge.  And then when Remus started saying things… I just lost it.  But it turns out he was the only person who knew what was going on."

Harry sat still for a while in contemplation.  Sirius ran a hand through his thick hair, unsure of what to say next.  This had not gone to plan at all.

"We were both wrong then, weren't we?" he heard Harry softly say.  "We both assumed the worst of each other."  The boy looked up at his guardian, "Sirius, how can we fix this?  I don't see a way."

Sirius stood up and clenched the papers he brought in his hands.  "I think it's time I explained these documents to you.  This," he held up one, "is a letter from Fudge releasing you from his custody.  And these two are adoption papers."

"Why two?"  Harry asked with more curiosity than anger now.  He sat himself up straighter on the cot so that he could see them.  Sirius sat down next to him so he could explain better.

"I have been a horrible parent and I'll be the first to admit it.  I was living in a dream world to think that it would be easy.  Silly promises made that I could never keep, losing my faith so easily… I cannot begin to fathom how I could have messed up so badly."  He shook his head, angry with himself for his weakness.  "Remus and I had a long talk two days ago and had these papers drawn up this morning.  We decided that you are old enough to make this decision."

"Sirius," Harry said more gently seeing Sirius fumble for words again.  "Just tell me."

"My guardianship over you was officially dissolved when you went to Azkaban," Sirius started.  He looked up from the papers to Harry's large green eyes.  "It would require a new document to re-establish the adoption.  Since I have been found to be an unsuitable parent, I asked Remus and he agreed.  Harry, what I'm trying to say is: who do _you want to live with?  Forget what anyone else wants.  One document will let you live with Remus who I'm sure will make a much better parent than I.  The other will let me be your fa… guardian again."_

"You want _me_ to choose?" the boy asked, his eyes going even larger.  Sirius handed them to Harry with shaking hands.

"I will not try to sway you either way.  Remus has opened his home to you gladly.  You will be no bother to him if you want to go.  But if you want to stay with me, if you want to make it work, I will try my damnedest to learn from my mistakes and not make them again."

Harry just sat there for a moment, gaping at the two documents and what they meant.  Each held a promise for his future and each one was pulling him, beckoning him.

"Everything is in order," continued the heavyhearted father as he moved to leave.  "All it needs is your signature.  I'll leave you to your decision.  Take your time, there is no hurry."

"Sirius?" Harry's voice stopped him at the door.  He turned around to face the boy who he cared so much for.

  
"Yes, Harry?"

"Um… Remus said something before you came in.  He said that I owed you my life and that you had some sort of burden over it.  What did he mean?"

"You are never a burden," Sirius assured.  "He only meant that when I took the bond over from Javen, that it caused me some initial distress."

"The Contiosa?  You what?"  Harry leapt from the cot he was sitting on to face Sirius fully eye to eye.  He had grown since their first meeting in the Shrieking Shack and was no longer dwarfed by the older man.  His emerald eyes betrayed his own distress as he contemplated this new development.

"You were dying," Sirius explained.  "You needed someone else to fill the gap that Javen left.  The others were too frightened.  I acted out of impulse.  I already decided not to use it or…"

"Why wasn't I told sooner?"  Sirius felt the bond in the back of his mind beginning to panic over the news.  He had to calm Harry down soon, or the link would modify his own mood.

"I thought you were already told.  Calm down, Harry.  I dampened the link as much as I could from my end, but I can feel your panic.  You can't give in to that."

The effect this simple information had on the boy was astounding.  Sirius was now faced with a fully terrified boy.  He knew from the end of last summer that Javen had tortured the boy to no end with this link, yet he didn't know how much of it still haunted him.  It seemed that the mere prospect of a new link sent him into a cold sweat.

For his part, the man found that the more he tried to calm Harry down, the more terror was seeping into his own mind.  He reached for the boy who was beginning to hyperventilate and drew him into a fierce embrace, trying to bring him back to reality.

Harry felt Sirius drawing him close and every instinct he had screamed for him to get away.  Sirius was just like Javen; he had said so himself.  He would hurt him.  He would punish him.  He would use the link to force him to obey with lullabies and mind-numbing pain.  So in his panic he struggled all the harder, beating against his captor with his fists that seemed so tiny and useless now.

"I'm sorry for this, Harry," Sirius murmured as he took the link into a more conscious level, forcing it open.  Into this link he pored all the pride and love he had for his son, willing Harry to see that he was no Javen and would not ever abuse him with the Contiosa.  He choked back a sob at the returning emotions.  

Black and purple swirls of energy crashed into him.  He saw everything that Harry was seeing in his mind.  He felt each of Javen's blows and mind-crippling waves.  He could smell the canine musk of his cell and feel the shimmering stares of the insane all around him.  He saw the American's needless death and he saw the likewise horrible death of a young Auror in Dublin.  He could hear the last requests of Cedric's echo as Harry held onto his wand for dear life.  All this he saw and more and then he finally understood that which he was so blind to.

On the other end of the link, Harry was having a hard time deciding on what to do. Should he shove Sirius away and run to the safety of Remus' presence?  Or should he cling to Sirius and never let go?  He could not stop himself from sending out the visions in his mind or from receiving Sirius'.  The intensity of Sirius' emotions caught him off-guard and made him pause in his panic.  He knew now that Sirius meant what he said; he was truly sorry and he really did love Harry.  He was not being lied to again and he could sense no Javen within him.  All he could sense was the deep paternal love and an underlying sadness that went beyond their current fight.

Sirius felt Harry still in his arms and he loosened them to give them both air.  He was sweating from the both mental and physical struggle, his hair clinging to his face and covering his eyes.  He withdrew from Harry's mind carefully and slowly so the boy could see he was no threat and hid the link so that he was barely aware of it.  He felt Harry sigh as he did so.

"Sirius," Harry panted trying to look into the man's eyes.  But his unkempt hair hid the two sapphires from his view.  He so desperately wanted to see them, but even that was denied to him.  "Sirius, what was…"

"I'll never use the Contiosa against you.  I swear it.  I'll understand if you want the link transferred to someone else.  It may be best that way."  His voice shook and Harry doubted that it was just from the strain of their latest struggle.

"But Sirius-"

"I have to go, Harry.  Take your time with the papers, there is no hurry.  I'll be back in a while."  His eyes still to the ground, Sirius fled the room, unable to look the boy in the face for fear that he would lose all control if he did.

Harry stood there for a moment, staring after his father figure in wonder.  What had Sirius seen in the exchange that had moved him so?  Even last summer, he had been in control of his emotions.  The control may have slipped during trying times, but it never completely left him.  Harry had just seen every wall, so carefully constructed, crumble down to nothing, leaving the ex-convict bare and naked to the world.

Maybe it wasn't what he had seen, he pondered as he returned to the adoption papers.  Maybe it was himself that he feared.  When he tried to end Harry's panic, he had sent every ounce of himself into it.  Haphazardly sending the boy waves of comfort and love, he destroyed his own emotional barriers that he had spent years constructing.  He must have known that.  He must have sensed how Harry could see everything that was inside him, everything that he denied the knowledge of even to Remus.

Harry looked at the paper with Remus' name on the top.  It would make Harry Remus' son in all legal terms and Wolf's Haven his home.  The simple cottage was warm and reminded him of the Weasley's sometimes from the way that it just smelled of peace and comfort.  Remus was offering his home to the boy and Harry found it oh so tempting.  

He alone had believed in Harry and fought for him fiercely.  He had admitted his wrong doings to Harry immediately after he woke up in the hospital; how he had unwillingly used him as bait for the true Dark Wizard that was still at large.  And he knew it was Remus who had kept him alive long enough for the Healers to arrive.  By every right Remus was the father Sirius couldn't be.  No one could deny that Remus was a much more suitable parent.  He understood children, he had the patience for them, and he knew their needs.  He could give Harry the security that Sirius never could.

He put the quill Sirius had brought to the paper.  All it needed was his signature on the dotted line.  Just _Harold James Potter_.  It was so easy to do, yet he paused and found he couldn't do it.  Not until he had considered the other sheet of parchment.

He sighed looking at Sirius' adoption paper.  He should be angry with him; he should be feeling nothing but malice and disappointment toward the ex-convict.  So why in the name of Merlin did he feel a yearning toward the paper?  He took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes.  He too was sweating from the ordeal of the Contiosa panic and the fatigue was catching up with him.  Why did they give _him the choice?  Why couldn't they just decide for him and let him deal with the decision?_

Harry suddenly realized what it was that was stopping him from signing his life away to Remus.  Sirius needed him.  That was what Sirius was so afraid of and why he left so quickly.  Harry wasn't just a kid that Sirius took care of.  He wasn't a way to make him more credible as a wizard or a father.  Sirius truly and deeply cared for and needed Harry to the point where if it were anything else, it would be sick.  Or, at least Sirius thought so.

Harry had seen the way the Weasley's acted around each other.  For all their bickering and family squabbles, they shard a fondness not found among mere friends.  They would die for each other and not consider it anything special.  Sirius had been so out of the loop on families, that he didn't even realize how much Harry was his son.  Harry actually had a better understanding of a family that Sirius did just from observing.  Sirius hadn't even had that much.  Harry had received enough of Sirius' memories in the transfer to know this.  God, he had certainly had enough of the man's memories of Azkaban to last him a lifetime.

If there was anything from the link that Harry learned about Sirius, it was that Sirius needed him.  He was his sanity for 12 years, his hope to escape, his will to survive outside the prison, and his reason for existence now.  If anything had happened to Harry, Sirius would be gone as assuredly as if he had the Dementors Kiss.  

'That's why he reacted so strongly to my sentence,' Harry realized.  'He wasn't just scared like he said.  He was terrified.  He couldn't save me from this like he could save me before.  This was something out of his control.'  Sirius liked being in control of all situations and his emotions.  But when a simple boy, who wasn't even his biological son, could control him without even knowing it, he became frightened.  All the self-control he possessed was powerless compared to the driving instinct to protect the boy.  Unleashed, this instinct was damn near unstoppable.  One day, Harry feared it would be his undoing.  

Voldemort would not be stopped until he had his revenge on the stubborn boy.  Harry knew that one day, the time would come when he had to fight that one last battle.  The others saw the same even if they didn't admit it.  Sirius would be determined not to let him fight.  He would want to take Harry's place.  He would try to stop it.  But like all things that could not be denied, Sirius would have to concede.  Concede or be destroyed in the ensuing struggle.

Sirius was not alone in his need to protect his loved ones.  How many times had Harry had to hide his pain so that others would not worry?  How many times had he taken blows meant for others?  Tears sprang to his eyes and he felt the urge to hit something.  Why was he one to always help and protect?!  Why couldn't he, for one instant, be just another hurt boy?  He didn't want to be this special war symbol.  He just wanted to be a normal boy with a normal family with normal fears and worries.  He just wanted to be comforted and loved.  And Remus offered that to him gladly.  He was tired of trusting Sirius only to be let down and he was tired of having to heal the older man's pain and lick his own wounds in private.  And he certainly did not need to worry about Sirius' mental health should anything happen to his beloved son.

Another hour slowly passed with no further progress on his decision.  Thrice curse those stupid adults!  He was tempted to just go to Rabbit and ask for a ride to America where he wouldn't need to worry about such things.  In the end, around 2 hours after Sirius fled the room, Harry finally made his decision.  Content with that and feeling like he had just played a 5 hour Quidditch match, he collapsed on his cot and fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

*          *            *

"Maybe you should talk to him, he won't even listen to me."

"Then he definitely won't listen to me."

"You haven't even tried."

"Look at the poor sap, there's no way I'm gonna get through to him.  He looks ready to keel over right now."

"Shut up, Rabbit," came a muffled reply from said 'poor sap'.  Remus and Rabbit looked at each other in wonder.

"Good," Rabbit replied, quick to pick up on the initiative.  "You were uncharacteristically quiet for such an extended period of time, we were afraid you were permanently traumatized."

"I would use smaller words, Rabbit," Remus smiled.  "For all his… er… worldly knowledge and never-ending talking, I doubt he knows half of those big words."

"You can shut it too, Moony."  Sirius' head remained pressed into the pillow below him.  The muffled threat only made it more ridiculous.

"Well, can you tell us what happened in there that caused you to temporarily lose your voice for about 2 hours?" asked Rabbit.  Remus sighed beside him.  That bloody American really did not know what it was to be tactful, did he?

"To put it your way, Rabbit, I fucked up merrily."

"As long as it was done mer-" Rabbit was immediately shut up by Remus who covered his mouth.

"What happened, Padfoot?" tried the werewolf in a much more gentle tone.  At the sound of his friend's voice, Sirius lifted his head and brushed locks of hair from his eyes.  His two friends were relieved to see that traces of tears were long gone.  He only looked exhausted, and for good reason.

"I thought we were finally getting somewhere," Sirius said.  "I told him about the adoption papers and I really thought it was over.  We had had our squabble and we reached some common ground.  But then he found out that I took over the link and he panicked.  Really panicked."

"I've seen him do many things, Padfoot, but never panic."

Sirius agreed.  "He was really afraid that I would use it against him like Javen.  He was terrified of me, Moony."  His blue eyes grew large as though he were seeing it all over again.  "Moony, he's never been afraid of me.  Not even when he thought I was out to kill him or when he thought I was going to kill Ron."

"It's not you he fears, Padfoot," Remus insisted.  "He's afraid of Javen and the memory he has created."

"Yeah, that's the other thing," Sirius blanched.  Seeing they were waiting for an explanation, he continued.  "Before he died, Javen told me that as long as his memory was feared, then he would be immortal.  Metaphorically, of course, but as long as he's remembered, he will always be a threat to our well being.  It would destroy us from the inside out."

"Why that idealistic son of a-" Remus cut off Rabbit again with his 'you're-not-helping' look.

"What else, Sirius?"

"He told me that Harry would see how similar Javen and I are and he would leave me either for Fudge or Voldemort's cause."

  
"Padfoot, that's the most ridiculous… Would you please listen to yourself?"

"I know!  I know it sounds stupid.  But he hit a nerve I didn't know I had.  And after all this, it looks like he may be right.  I acted just as badly as Javen did towards Harry, didn't I?  I hurt him when he needed me the most and in a way that only a father can hurt his child.  He's going to leave me, Moony.  Especially after what he saw through the link.  I'm not strong enough to take care of him and he knows it."

"Oh, Snuffles, _do_ shut up," Rabbit sighed.  "We came here to make sure you hadn't smothered yourself with your pillow, _not_ to throw you a Pity Party."

"I agree with Rabbit, Sirius," said Remus smiling in amusement.  "Javen's predictions are as valid as Sybil Trelawney's.  They are entirely baseless and prey on your fears."

"But…"

"They are the last desperate rantings of a dying man too proud to accept defeat, Padfoot.  Nothing more.  Now, we discussed this adoption issue earlier.  No matter who Harry chooses to live with, you will still be the only one capable of being his father.  I have neither the wish nor the capabilities to take your place in his heart."

"Buck up, my friend," Rabbit said.  "If this savage American can be a somewhat decent father, even with this infernal job, than you surely _you_ can do it."

"I don't want to screw up again.  It's not fair to him."

"No, you're right, it's not fair to him.  But as far as I see it, you didn't screw up that badly.  You were overly harsh with him, yes.  You may not be prime parent material, yes.  The way I'm looking at it, the only reason he's even able to be angry with you right now is because of you.  While the rest of us stood around and watched him die, you came and saved him.  Just as he's saved you before.  If that doesn't prove that you two are a good match then I don't know what to believe.  Face it, Padfoot," Remus grinned.  "You cannot get rid of each other no matter how hard you try."

Sirius nodded, "Alright, Moony, I'll concede.  You're probably right."

"You're just too tired to argue," countered Rabbit.

Sirius gave him an odd look.  "Of course I am.  Why else would I lose an argument?"

"Welcome back, Padfoot," laughed the werewolf.  "Get some sleep.  I'll come back this afternoon to make sure you haven't smothered yourself."

"See you then."  With that, Sirius lay back onto his cot and gave himself up to the exhaustion racking his body.  He didn't even remember it was only around noon until Remus reminded him.

"Don't worry, Snuffles.  This will all be a bad dream by tomorrow.  It'll pass, like all things do."  Rabbit shut off the lights and followed Remus out of the ward.  Sirius listened as their footsteps faded down the hallway before rolling over and letting unconsciousness take over from there.

End Part 10

And now for some responses!

Jpalmgren: *blushes * thank you! From you, I take this as a great compliment. Thank you, someone understands the psychology I put into my characters. No, I do not believe that Harry will ever be the innocent he was before. No moping nor dependency will be done on Harry's part if I can avoid it.  I will try my best to keep it up to par for you.

Kateydidnt: Yuppers, he's really gone this time. No more bad guys coming back from the dead, that is bad form.  I try to go swiftly.  My muse, however, has other plans.

Ms. Issues: I love it when people think! Thank you!

Darkphoenix: Nope, be mean! I need it and I don't take it personally. I hope the talk between Harry and Sirius is acceptable. Grrr, stupid applications. I'm looking into UMASS. I already got the placement, but I need scholarships to go there. Such is life. Law school? That is so cool! Good luck!

Twilight: The title is actually for both Sirius and Javen. Javen had no idea that he would lose, did he? And what about Sirius? Did he truly win? He may have lost Harry to him after all. The damage done could be irreparable. I do my best to make things clear! ^_^

Starlight: Not for another couple chapters!

Thewalrus: As a newcomer to my stories, I welcome you to it! ^_^ However, you must know that I take forever in updating. But rest assured that anything started will be finished. All I need is some yelling at. I'm glad I had Sirius do it too. It was going to be Remus in a totally different kind of scenario, but I figured that Sirius could do more with it. Happily ever after? Well, that's for you to decide…

HermioneG15: Yeah, everyone's having a rough day, huh? In italics, that's a conversation that Sirius and Javen had after Javen got shot and before Remus came. Sirius is just remembering it. I was going to include it in the shack scene, but decided that it would take to long and I had to get to more actions. Since Javen is dead now, Sirius and Harry are the only ones involved in that link. Javen in not literally immortal. I used it metaphorically.  You know how sometimes, people will say something on how a certain person will never truly die because they live on in someone else? That's this kind of idea. I hope that clears everything up.

Meagan: Hehehe… keep reading. It'll get better, I promise. *hands out some brand-name Ti's Tissues *

Kat: Harry isn't exactly too pleased to find out, is he? The anger and pain will last a while, but nothing can last forever. Even though he will never be the same trusting and innocent boy he was, it's simply not in his nature to hate someone. The closest he's ever come to it was in the 3rd book: PoA when he found out that Sirius 'betrayed' his family. I'll type as fast as I can.

Christy: I do not abandon stories despite how much they try to abandon me. Just give me a good kick in the pants and I'll be better.

Relle: Hey, hun! *gives hug and some brand-name Ti's Tissues * Keep up the great Beta-ing job and I'll see you on AOL. Honestly, my sister gets to talk to you more than I do. ^_^

Lanfear: See? At least you have a nice alternate personality. Mine is a total procrastinating brat. Keep up the good work Samantha, keep that girl in line!

RavenLady: I'm glad you love it! And what's more *throws confetti * you're my 100th reviewer which means that you can tell me what you want to see in a fic and I'll create a story or chapter just for you! Just e-mail me with the details!

Anonymous: Thank you and welcome to the show! I hope this chapter is to you're liking.

Superman: ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ^_^ Here it is!


	11. I Would Have Loved You Anyway

AN: Here it is! The last chapter of my sequel "Crushed Velvet."  Isn't everyone sad? *note sarcasm * Don't worry if you are, I have many more bunnies multiplying at home.  There should be some more stories up in the near future. I have at least one prequel to SGNG and 2 sequels to this.  Hah!  And I said this would never turn into a series… Oh well!  Read away and please check out my new story, which is a one-shotter.  It's the one titled: "Who Wants to Live Forever?" and it's dedicated to Alexa Black for being SGNG's 50th reviewer.  Enough blab, let's get on with the last chapter!

Part 11: I Would Have Loved You Anyway

Sirius heard voices calling him from the deep recesses of his mind.  He tried to ignore them and return to the tempting warmth of sleep.  However, they would not leave him alone and he could retreat no longer.

Wearily opening his eyes, he found himself the subject of unspeakable terror.  Two large brown eyes met his and filled his whole blurry field of vision.

"Ah!  What the… Rabbit!  What the bloody hell are you trying to do!  You want to give me a heart attack?" he yelped as he jumped back in surprise.

The sight of the rudely awoken Sirius's face was too much for the jovial American.  He tried to not snigger at his poor friend's expense, but found himself unable to stop laughing.

"Well, I'm glad you're amused," growled Sirius.  "At least one of us is."

"I'm-hehe-I'm sorry, Snuffles," Rabbit chuckled.  "I was just-ha-trying to make sure you were still breathing.  You have been out for 20 hours.  We thought you might have really smothered yourself to death."

Sirius sighed in exasperation.  "When I get out of bed, Rabbit, you'll be lucky if you yourself aren't smothered!  I was tired, so sue me!"

"I understand that, my friend," Rabbit finally controlled his laughter long enough to speak.  "I just thought that you might want to know that Harry is being discharged as we speak.  The doctors also said that you are being kicked out as well.  If you want to sleep all day, that's your business.  Just do it at home and stop using all the sick people's air."

"Where's Remus?" Sirius asked trying to not give in to his personal wishes to rid the world of one extra American.

"With Harry.  The Mooned One told me to wake up Sleeping Beauty, and I have done so… minus the kiss of course."

"For which I am eternally grateful, you have no idea."  Sirius took some clean clothes set out for him and went into the bathroom to get changed.

"So when will Harry get all his things moved to Wolf's Haven?" asked Sirius when he emerged.  He tried to sound nonchalant about it, but inside, he was reeling.  If Remus was discharging Harry, then that meant only one thing: Harry had indeed taken up the better offer.  He should not have been surprised, but he had wanted to prove that he had indeed learned from his mistakes.

"I was not aware that his things would be going anywhere," replied Rabbit casually as he led the way through the halls.  "They are right where they need to be."

"But… didn't he chose Remus?  Why else would Moony be signing him out?"

"And Hogwarts claims that you were one of the best and the brightest to enter its halls… Number 1: No, Harry did not chose Remus.  Number 2: Because you were too busy up here snoring away like my great aunt Margaret to do anything useful."

Sirius stopped dead in his tracks.  He slowly turned to Rabbit who crossed his arms in amusement.  "He… didn't chose Remus?  He wants to live with me?  Really?"

For a moment, Rabbit considered playing with his friend a while longer.  Perhaps make him squirm a little more in sweet revenge for all the hours the American spent worrying over him.  In the end, however, he decided that Sirius had suffered enough of his teasing for now.

"Yes, really, Sirius," he answered kindly.  "I'll not say he didn't take long enough to decide, but the result is the same.  Moony is right, you can't get rid of each other no matter what you try."

Padfoot allowed himself a small smile to grace his handsome features.  It was a look that his friends sorely missed on him.  Warmth spread through his body and into every little crevice.  Who could know that such a small announcement could have such an effect on him?  He had been fully prepared for an unfavorable decision, so the knowledge that he would not have to bow to it made him that much more elated.

"Come on, Snuffles," Rabbit said smiling.  "I'll take you to where they're waiting.  Just follow the white rabbit, he'll lead you well."

Meanwhile, in the waiting room, Harry watched as Remus signed him out.  His thoughts too hovered among the adoption papers.  One he had signed and another he had rejected.  Would he regret his decision, he mused.  Perhaps his faith in second chances was foolish and he was only setting himself up for another crushing blow.  Perhaps Sirius really would take this harsh lesson to heart and he would keep his promises now.

The link in the back of his mind never left his immediate thought.  He feared that if he worried anymore of being spied on, he would go mad with paranoia.  Such fears of being observed were not baseless with Javen, but he hoped they were with Sirius.  Either way, he would have to deal with this fear one way or another.

These and other musings were running through his mind as he waited patiently for Remus to finish and for Rabbit to complete his mission of waking the slumbering Padfoot.  In the few days Harry had known the American Unspeakable, he had grown to value him as a friend he could count on in the years to come.  It was sad to know that he was due to give a report at the American Magical Departments later that evening.  He would have liked to get to know him as a man rather than as Sirius' former partner or as one of his saviors.  But it was not to be and the jovial foreigner would be leaving before noon.

Remus thanked the young nurse at the desk and returned to sit at Harry's side, breaking the boy from his reveries.  He smiled at his young charge.  "Is everything alright, Harry?" he asked gently.

"Did I make the right decision, Remus?" he asked uncertainly.  The werewolf put a hand on his slumped shoulders.

"I'm afraid only you know what is right for you.  How do you feel now that you've decided?  What do your instincts tell you?"

"I… I don't know.  He means so much to me, and I still think of him as my father despite what he's done.  But maybe I'm making a mistake in giving him another chance.  What if I get hurt again?  I don't know if I could deal with that."

"Let me tell you a story, Harry."  Remus sat back in the cushioned bench and faced the boy entirely, granting him complete attention.  "You already know how Snape is indebted to James for saving his life, and you know how it was Sirius' fault that Snape was ever in danger in the first place.  I'm afraid you never heard my version of the story.  Well, when the morning came after that night, someone had to tell me what happened.  My memory is not as good as it usually is after a full moon.  I do not always remember what happens depending on what holds the wolf's interest at the time.  I remember obsessing over this one squirrel for 2 months… but I digress.

"When I was released from the Hospital Wing the morning after, I returned to the Common Room to meet the others like I always did.  I did not remember exactly what happened, only that the wolf was especially agitated.  Almost as though it knew that prey was within its reach and somehow managed to escape.  I asked the Marauders if they knew anything about it thinking it was merely another squirrel or something.  Well, they had agreed beforehand that it was Sirius' duty to tell me the whole of it.  So he took me aside and did just that.

"To tell you I was devastated at his confession would be an understatement.  I was horrified and terrified all at once.  One of my best friends in the world, one of the only ones to know what I was, had abused our friendship in the worst possible way.  I had just begun to think that he was not like others who let their prejudices get in the way.  When he told me, all the old fears came back to me.  I was now convinced he thought of me only as a weapon, and he used me to cause harm.  If his plan had succeeded, then Snape would either have died, or the wolf would have let him live in the wish of creating its own pup.  If either had happened, not only would I have been expelled, but the Ministry would have been involved.  They would have killed me, Harry.  Held a quick hearing for me like all magical creatures deemed dangerous, been declared a danger to society, and then 'put to sleep.'  Sirius hurt me badly in his disregard for this and it literally took years for him to gain my trust again.  I decided to give him another chance even though he probably didn't deserve it."

"Was it worth it?" Harry whispered, moved by the emotion he saw in the older man's eyes.  He had known about Sirius' failed prank, but he had never considered how it must have been for Remus to know that he had been used as a mere weapon.

"I believe it was.  Sirius is not perfect, you know that well enough.  He is fallible like any of us.  But if given a second chance, he is not one to waste it.  So the answer to your question: does he deserve another chance?  I have given him one and it proved wise.  Should you?  Only you know that.  Do you understand, Harry?"

"I-I think so.  If you gave him another chance, then I can too."

"And nothing is set in stone.  If for any reason you change your mind about him, my home is always welcome to you.  Sirius and I are the best of friends, but every friendship has a line somewhere.  I will not respect his rights over you if I do not feel it is warranted."

"Thank you, Remus," Harry smiled a true smile then.  As it had been with Sirius, it was an occurrence that was sorely missed.  Remus smiled as well and drew the boy into a light embrace.

"Now," the werewolf said standing up.  "What do you say we find our lost Rabbit and Padfoot?"

Harry nodded and followed his godfather down the hallway.  However, said missing duo turned the corner just then as though waiting for a cue.  For a moment, Harry felt himself stiffen at the sight of the two men.  Then he remembered what he had just told Remus and he moved to join the werewolf in greeting them.

The change he saw in Sirius was incredible.  Sleeping for 20 hours must have its merits if it produced a wizard so changed in movement, appearance, and temperament.  When he had last seen Sirius, Harry saw an unwillingness for eye contact from the man.  Also, Sirius looked cowed and nearly a mere shadow of his brash and joyful self.  Now, the first thing Sirius did upon reaching his best friend and son was to look the boy full in the eyes and smile.  It was not yet a full-blown back from the past Padfoot grin that could still turn more than a few female heads.  Yet, it had a hint of the old Sirius that Harry and Remus were pleased to see, for it held a promise for their friend's complete recovery.

"Do you know how hard it is to wake him up?" exclaimed Rabbit to ease any tension still lingering in the air between the small family before him.  Remus laughed at this.  His soft laugh that betrayed his true mirth.  No more hollow chuckles that hid underlying pain.  Any tension that survived the initial contact immediately dissipated.

"In fact I do know how hard it is," Moony grinned.  "I had to wake him up every day for 7 years while in school.  No one else was brave enough to try it."

"Well, you're no early riser either," Sirius defended himself crossing his arms.  "I remember James having to roll you off your mattress more than once."

"Only after a full moon, Padfoot, and only when you kept me up previously with your insufferable snoring," Moony shot back quickly.  Sirius had the grace to look offended.

"I?  Snore?  The Great Sirius Black do something so-"

"Come off it," Harry smiled, "You snore loud enough to wake the dead."

"Well I can see you're not going to be any help, are you?" Sirius frowned.  "I swear, the day I get released from the hospital, everyone immediately gangs up on me."

"Reminds you of our innocent, carefree school days, doesn't it?" mused the werewolf.  Rabbit raised an eyebrow.

"Innocent and carefree?  You two?  If the other two of your little passé were anything like you, I pity the poor educators of Hogwarts' youth."

"Speaking of the youth of Hogwarts," Remus said looking at his pocket watch, "I'm late for an appointment with Dumbledore."

"Will you be teaching again?" asked Harry excited at the prospect of a competent Defense teacher.

Remus shrugged.  "If I do, it will only be until he can find a more permanent professor.  It appears that shortly after your departure from the school, your last Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher disappeared and was later found a few days later stuffed into a toilet.  We think Peeves had something to do with it, but no one can nail it on him.  Rumor has it that Professor Anton packed up and left shortly after leaving the Hospital Wing.  No one's heard from her since."  He looked from his watch to his three friends.  "I really must be going.  Sirius, Harry, I will see you later.  It has been a pleasure, Rabbit, and I trust you will keep in touch after you leave?"

"As often as I can," the American promised as they shook hands.  Remus fled the waiting room with his wand in his hand, presumably to Apparate the moment he was safely away from the protective wards surrounding the hospital.

"We must be going too," Sirius said to Harry.  "I want to see someone before we head home."  The boy nodded, surprised at the ease with which Sirius spoke to him when only yesterday he had trouble maintaining his very composure.  The idea of going home, wherever that might be, was tempting and he was warming up to the fact that he and Sirius would be sharing that home.

"I should be getting home too," Rabbit said, also looking at his watch.  "President Alwin expects my report tonight."

"Will you Apparate or take a Portkey?" asked Sirius as the three walked out of the building.

"Portkey this time.  Apparating between countries is generally frowned upon unless it's an emergency."

"There's an office just a few blocks from here," Sirius replied.  "We'll join you.  The building I'm looking for is near it anyway."

The minutes went by silently for a block or two as no one knew quite what to say.  All that needed to be said had been said and that which was already discussed was not meant for a public stroll.  As he walked, Harry chanced a sideways glance at his once-again father.  Since the last outburst with the link in which Sirius pushed through the boy's terror, Harry could feel only echoes of the mental tendrils.  Strangely silent, the link betrayed no hint of Sirius' emotions, and he felt no invasion into his own.  

Harry knew of his father's lingering pain only by the slight favoring of his right side.  The Healers could only do so much with Sirius' wound.  Muggle weapons and magic often clashed and so was the effect here.  The major healing needed was accomplished with only a few glitches, but in order to recover completely, Sirius needed to be gentle with his bandaged wound for a few weeks more.  In the older man's face was a set glint in his eye that refused to acknowledge the wound.  He would favor the wound, yes, but he need be the only one to know it.

"What is the new house like?" asked Harry timidly, trying to move his thoughts from the lingering guilt of Sirius' latest near death experience.

"Oh, the Celestial Tsunami?  It's great!  It's about the size of the Manticore's Den and it has a pond in the front that-"

"This isn't the house that Remus said had a swamp, is it?"  Harry asked doubtfully.  Sirius' eyes glittered at the joke though Rabbit was oblivious to the private humor of the situation.

"For the last time, it is a Japanese garden!"  Sirius exclaimed.  "And it's a very nice Japanese garden if I say so myself.  Just a few miles away from Wolf's Haven too in case of emergencies."

"Did you get another stone angel?"  Harry sincerely hoped not.  Their last guardian cared more about her marble hair than their actual well being.

"No, but I have something better.  You'll see it when we get home."

Harry was not sure if he trusted the happiness in his father.  It could be one of his many practical jokes.  Or maybe he really got a house guardian that did its job well.  He did not really like the idea of a guardian anyway.  Most houses did not have one, though with Voldemort's reputed return, more people were putting more effort into securing their homes.  He knew that as a main target, he should understand the need for protection.  It did not mean he had to like it.

"Here we are," Sirius exclaimed as they reached an old dusty shoe store.  Going inside, Harry felt as though he sincerely needed a good sneeze to decontaminate himself from the layers of dust layering the floor and shelves.  In the back of the ill-used store was an elderly man stocking his shelves with a bored look as though the monotony of a shop with nary a customer finally got to him.

"We're closed," he answered automatically when the door bell sounded

"Excuse me," Sirius said, "but we need a Portkey overseas."

"City and country," the shoe seller said without pausing to look up from his work.

"Boston, Massachusetts in the United States," Rabbit spoke up.

"How many passengers?"

"Just one.  Me."

"One way or two?"

"Just one way."

"Very well."  The shopkeeper climbed down from his ladder and ruffled through some black and white saddle shoes in a corner.  He gave himself a small grin as he apparently found the right shoe.

"Here they are.  It'll be 3 Galleons for a regular Portkey worth one trip to the States.  5 Galleons for an Untraceable Portkey."

"I'll take the Untraceable," Rabbit said fishing through his many pockets for some money.  He grinned at Sirius and Harry, the latter of which found this building and its contents to suddenly be something to cause much excitement and curiosity.  Paying for the portkey, Rabbit received the left shoe in a box.  His companions followed him to a back door used for transportation.

"If you need to get a hold of me for any reason, you can send an owl to the Department of Mysteries in America labeled for Rabbit," the American said as they stepped into the room.  "They'll get it to me."

"Can't we simply keep in touch?" asked Sirius.  Rabbit shrugged opening the box to reveal an old ugly saddle shoe meant for the left foot.

"Such things are rather frowned upon among Unspeakables, and it's hard to reach us unless it's an emergency," he answered.  He paused for a moment in quiet deliberation.  Then he looked up to the two before him as though seeing them for the first time ever.  His light blue eyes widened as they met both of his companion's eyes, testing them intensely.  "Alan Becket," he finally whispered in a voice so soft that even Remus would have trouble hearing it.  "My name is Alan Becket.  Address personal owls as such."

Neither Sirius nor Harry spoke, too stunned for words.  Even for the boy, who had very little experience with such things, knew the great importance of this simple revelation.  It was a mark of great trust and respect to know the forbidden name of an Unspeakable.  Should this knowledge reach the wrong person, Rabbit's life would no doubt be forfeit.

Then Rabbit's eyes lessened in intensity and glittered again in his ever-present humor.  "The white rabbit's lost track of time and should have been in his hole a long time ago.  I must be going."

"Have a safe journey, Rabbit," Sirius said shaking his hand.  "Thank you for everything."

"Can't say it was my pleasure, but I'm glad to have been of some use.  I'll always be reachable should you need me."  Sirius nodded and let Harry come forth.

"I owe you my life, Rabbit," Harry began, unsure of how to approach the American.  "I can't say how…"

"Listen, kid," interrupted Rabbit, "You're alright and where you belong.  That's thanks enough.  Just take care of each other and stay out of trouble, alright?"  Harry nodded and received a fond ruffling of his hair from his new friend.

Rabbit backed off from them so they wouldn't be caught up in the magical energies.  "See you around, you barbaric American," Sirius smiled.  His friend laughed and bowed mockingly.

"See you around, you prissy Englishman," laughed Rabbit as he grabbed hold of the shoe.  With a whirl, he was sucked into the shoe that soon fell lifelessly to the floor.  Without a word, Sirius and Harry walked out of the store to wherever it was that Padfoot wanted to go.

They walked further into the city, through sketchy alleys and dark back walkways.  Finally, without too much trouble, Sirius led them to an even smaller building than the Portkey shop.  Knocking three decisive times on the door, Sirius gave his name to the young man on the other side.

Harry stayed close to his father throughout the treacherous trip to this new building and in entering it, he was able to relax somewhat.  It was a cozy few rooms despite its sketchy location with red and gold adorning much of everything.  The lighting was soft and almost completely from small candles or chandeliers.  The younger man who answered the door led them into a library with comfortable chairs and bade them sit.  It was then that Sirius deemed introductions important to the situation.

"Harry, this is an old friend from the first war, Thomas Turner.  Thomas, this is my adopted son, Harry.  You remember James' boy?"

"Remember him?  Sirius, I remember tireless hours of babysitting duty while you and your three Marauders went off to save the world.  Of course I remember him!"  his dark green eyes were like jade and they reflected the candlelight as they looked upon the boy before him.  He was a stately looking man, maybe only a few years younger than Sirius with long mahogany hair that was kept intact by a low ponytail.  "Welcome to my humble abode, Harry.  I am sorry we had to meet again so soon after these unfortunate events."

He moved to the back of the room to prepare some tea for his guests and a glass of dark red wine for himself.  Briefly flitting his eyes to Sirius once, he proceeded the conversation lightly.  "When you told me you were coming, Sirius, you failed to tell me why."

"Can't a man visit an old friend without needing a reason, Thomas?"

"So soon after such horrible events?  Sirius, I can smell the stench of your lies from here."  He handed a cup to his visitors as he took a seat across from them.  "Now, tell old Thomas what's the matter."

"Alright then, if you really want to get down to business."  Sirius put down his cup without ever taking a sip.  He leaned forward as he always did when dealing with urgent and difficult subjects.  "What do you know of the Contiosa Botaya curse?"

Harry had the grace not to look too stunned at what just was uttered from his father's mouth.  Of all the subjects to be brought up, this was one of the most unexpected and yet the most obvious.  His heart pounded further as he awaited Thomas' answer.  He saw the man neither flinch nor start at the mention of the forbidden spell.

"I could give you the textbook definition, or if you preferred, I could tell you how the spell is performed.  I could tell you cases of failed attempts or successful attempts that ended only in tragedy.  If you liked, I could give you the case that caused the ban on the spell or tell you the penalty of performing the spell yourself or others.  Sirius, you must be a little more specific than that."

"Alright then, fine.  Javen performed the spell on Harry and when he died, I was forced to take it over.  I was told that if one person died, than the other would be in jeopardy."

"You were told right," Thomas nodded.  "The dominant person in the link can gain more control, maybe even surviving the loss of their partner should their control grow so great."

"Javen used the link to… to kill his son," said Harry quietly.  "Then he transferred his mind to his son's body and took it over."

"An unusual form of possession, but very plausible," agreed Thomas.  "Javen must have had great power."

"His power lay in persuasion and manipulation," said Sirius, "but we're not here to talk about him.  He's very dead and very much out of the way."

"So it appears.  So now you two share this link.  What now?"  Thomas took a sip from his glass calmly.

"I don't know," Sirius shook his head.  "This link has been used for far more harm than anything else.  The risks involved are too heavy.  Is there a cure?"  Harry perked up in his chair at the hope for a cure.  This movement was not lost by either Sirius nor his friend.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," Thomas responded immediately.  "There is no cure.  Once your mind has become dependent on something, it is not able to give such a thing up.  Should one of you abandon the link, you will both die unless the more dominant of the pair is the one leaving it.  Then there is a slim chance of survival for the stronger of the two."  He put down his wine glass and looked directly at Harry.  "You must be very aware of what this spell does to you.  You can be controlled or given vast amounts of abilities and power with a single thought.  You know, more than anyone, what can be done with this link you share."

"Isn't there any way to transfer it to something else or get rid of it?" asked Harry.

"I don't blame you for wanting to try.  But there is nothing that can be done to lose it.  That is why it was outlawed; because of the lethality that comes with the gifts."

"What gifts?" demanded the boy.  "I was forced to… do horrible things with it."  The image of the dead Auror and screaming mermaid came clearly to mind.  "Is there no way?"

"What gifts?  Surely you can find some advantage of such a link.  You can find your partner anywhere in the world with a mere thought.  You can lend a loved one power in a duel that you cannot enter.  You can be given abilities you have only read about.  Forming a team that is unbreakable by any force in the universe is a team not to be taken lightly.  You and Sirius could do such great things with your link."  Seeing that they were not convinced, he sighed.  "There is a way to minimize the effects of the link until it is barely noticeable.  But that it the most that can be done."

"What do you do?" asked Sirius, willing to do anything to ease the fear in Harry's heart.

"Ignore it.  You do not send messages, you do not receive them.  Push it to the back of your mind until it is a microscopic pin of light in your myriad of thoughts.  Do not even think about it or talk about it.  The less acknowledgment it receives, the less it will flare up.  This takes a lot of practice, but I've heard that it works well.  Again, despite the spell's obvious disadvantages, I do not recommend this course of action.  You have been given a gift.  Use it for Merlin's sake!"  He sighed and lifted his glass again.  "At least promise to think about it."

"Why are you so interested in it?" asked Sirius, voicing what was in Harry's mind.  For a moment, the boy thought his mind had been read, but he knew it hadn't.  He would have known.

"Nothing more than magical curiosity, I assure you.  I am in training to become a Duelimg Master, and this is fascinating from a dueling point of view.  Not everyone gets to see a Contiosa Bond at work."

Sirius gave him a dry look.  "Thomas, you are 389 years old and you have never observed a Contiosa?"

The man who looked so young laughed in pure mirth, revealing a neat pair of fangs behind his soft pink lips.  "390 in two weeks, young one!  And no, I have never had the pleasure of observing one.  My Master, you could say, never did like his fledgling experimenting much."  Harry's eyes widened as he finally realized what it was about his father's friend that put him on edge.  And that was no wine in the glass, was it…?

"So we are an immortal's lab rats," Sirius observed, not sounding all that upset.  Thomas shook his head still chuckling.

"Oh, please, Sirius, look who's talking.  I seem to recall how you owled me twice a week in Hogwarts to help you with your homework when you found out what I was."

Sirius had the grace to blush at that.  "What's the use of having a family steward if you do not use him?"

"Between Remus and myself, it's no wonder you did so well in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Thomas lightly chided.  Then he rose from his chair.  "It is late, Sirius, and I must be getting to bed."  Harry was about to remark on how it was not yet noon when he remembered himself and stayed silent.  Following the men to the door, he fell into deep thought as he pondered what they would do about the Contiosa.

"Thank you for your time, Thomas," Sirius said as his friend opened the door for them.  The vampire shook his head.

"Think nothing of it, old friend.  It was good to see you again.  Now keep in touch from time to time.  I never tire of your letters.  And besides," he said with a wink, "I have an investment in you now.  I need to follow my lab rat's progress."

"Goodbye, Thomas," Sirius sighed rolling his eyes.

"Thanks for your help," Harry said, surprised to find himself not at all uneasy about being so close to the immortal.  A small voice in his mind found this humorous as it proved that he had a complete assortment of friends now.  Even as he shook Thomas' hand, he felt no fear but only mused at how warm the hand was, and not the chilling cold he was expecting.  His mind drifted back to the wine glass consumed previously and figured that that was the cause of the vampire's warmth and fleshed out appearance.

"Not at all, little one.  I enjoyed seeing you again.  If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to see me.  And don't you worry about the Contiosa.  No matter what you decide to do, it will all work out.  A vampire's mind link to their Makers and siblings is very similar to the Contiosa and there isn't one of my kind alive who hasn't been abused by it at one time or another.  The scars will heal.  You were broken into it too quickly, but believe me when I say that you will one day cherish it as I do mine."

Harry only nodded, unsure of how to respond.  He felt Sirius' hand on his shoulder and left the strange, gentle vampire with his strange, gentle home behind.  They headed back toward the center of town where they could catch the Knight Bus to their new home.

"Don't mind him, Harry," assured Sirius, "He's not as strange as he seems.  Vampires are a weird lot anyway, and he's a fairly young one as far as they go.  Seen a lot in his time, though.  More than most his age."

"That wasn't really… human blood in his cup, was it?" the boy asked tentatively.  His father shrugged, humor creeping into his eyes.

"He gave up regular hunting when he became my father's steward before I was born.  He won't say no to a particularly nasty criminal that gets too close to his territory, but he prefers to raid blood banks a few times a month."

"When he taught our class, Remus said that they can live off animals if they need to."

"Remember that he said 'if they need to.' There's a difference between living and surviving.  He tried to convert to animals in the mid 1800's, mostly rats and the occasional poodle I hear, but he only wound up miserable.  They do it if they must, a useful trick on a ship at sea, but never longer than they have to.  You'll never find a vampire with his good health if they live only on animals.  I expect he's been feeding pretty regularly on human blood if his good color is anything to judge by."

"Y'know," Harry remarked, quickening his steps to keep up with his father's longer strides, "I think I like him.  I already know half giants, centaurs, werewolves, house elves, veelas, ghosts, Americans, and hippogriffs.  Why not a vampire too?"

"I like your way of thinking, kid," said Sirius approvingly.  "There aren't many who would accept your friends as easily as you."

"I know what you mean," Harry said determined to keep the conversation light.  "You have to have a strong will to befriend an American.  A New Englander on top of it."

They shared a laugh at poor Rabbit's behalf and continued on in companionable silence.  As they walked, Harry reveled in the bright morning sun that contrasted so sharply to the air conditioned hospital and the chilling cold of prison.  He could see now why Sirius insisted on going outside every time it was sunny out.  Suddenly, his reckless laugh that was filled with such honest happiness at every ray of sunlight seemed less strange.  Next to him, he could see his father's content countenance confirm what he already knew.  They were of the same mind, and if it were up to them, every day would be filled with the warmth and light of the sun.

In their peaceful silence, Harry's eyes flitted over to a large beautiful house on a faraway hill that overlooked the city.  It was upon a hill and glittered in the afternoon light.  Ancient looking, it stood majestically alone with a large yard considering all the civilization nearby.

"They must have a lot of housekeepers or something to keep it running," he commented to himself.  Sirius stiffened slightly.

"Or a lot of house elves," his father muttered.  Harry looked over at him, noticing the discomfort as well as feeling it slightly over the bond.

"Do you know the people who live there?" he asked curiously.  The man shrugged and snuggled back into his jacket unconsciously as though he had a chill coming on.

"Only one lonely hermit live there now," he said, unable to look at it further.  "That's Black Manor."

"That's your… I mean… it…" Harry's emerald eyes grew wide as he struggled with his words.

"Yeah, it was my house.  I haven't been in it since I went into hiding in 1981 a few weeks before Halloween.  My father retired a few years back and doesn't like to come out now, or so I've heard."

"You don't talk about him often," the boy said softly and carefully.  He had heard enough previously about how his grandfather had treated young Sirius upon his arrest.

"He was a part of my old life and has made no urge to contact me or be a part of my life any more.  I can respect that and I've moved on."  By the hurt evident in the man's sapphire eyes, Harry saw that moving on would take more time than this.  He could only imagine being estranged from Sirius for the rest of his life even after he was proved innocent.  The elder Mr. Black, Castor, seemed too proud, or was it embarrassed, to approach his son again after disowning him.  He was glad once more that he and Sirius had closed their rift before such an estrangement could form between them.

"Maybe someday he'll want to talk to you again," suggested Harry with false optimism.  "And you'll make up like we did."

Sirius shrugged noncommittally.  "Maybe."

Their wait for the bus once flagging it down was not so comfortable with the magnificent Black Manor in perfect view, but at least it was a short wait.  Padfoot visibly eased up once the old mansion was out of sight in the bus.

Sitting on a lounge chair, Sirius addressed his son who was perched on a stool.  "I've been thinking about what Thomas said.  You know, about how we can't get rid of the bond but muffle it instead.  What do you want to do?"

Harry thought about it for a moment.  Now that the initial panic of having to share his mind with Sirius was over, the thought of a bond wasn't half near as terrifying.  Yes, he still feared it; it would take many years for his fear of the mind-numbing abuse to subside.  "I won't lie and say I'm not still scared of it.  I don't know if I'll ever be comfortable with the thought of having someone else in my head."

Sirius nodded, understanding perfectly.  "It's up to you what we do with it.  I don't want you to be afraid whatever you decide."

The boy leaned back in his stool and stared out the window for a few moments.  Clouds floated by as the bus flew him to his new home.  The colors of the far away countryside flashed before him.  He could feel his father's patient gaze on him as he waited for the final verdict.

He realized suddenly that this choice was not so much a choice of privacy, but more a choice of trust.  Couldn't he trust Sirius with his life?  He felt confident that he could.  Then why was trusting him with his mind so different?  He didn't have an answer.

Tentatively, with no small amount of apprehension, he reached back into the deep recesses of his mind.  The bright blue light that met him was unmistakably Sirius; had every feel of the man's bright spirit.  Coming closer, he could make out the sitting form of his father within those blue flames with his eyes closed, the link unrealized.  Just allowing himself to bask in the blue glow calmed the boy's jittery nerves.

Whenever Harry had dared to approach the link while Javen controlled it, he would be met with an almost painfully blinding ice blue light that used its coldness to stab through him.  No memory was left intact; no emotion was too sacred to plunder.  He had felt cut and exposed to the Dark Wizard on the other side of that link.  Touching the azure flames of Sirius, Harry was astonished at how much of a difference two men could make in one simple spell.

Here, there was no pain, no naked exposure to a cold uncaring master.  The light acknowledged Harry's own emerald aura with a dull glow as the blue figure opened his eyes.  Bracing himself against invasion, Harry found that he had no need to.  His father would not make one move toward the green glow nor reach out to explore Harry's mind without the boy taking the first step.  The blue Sirius cocked his head to the side as he unknowingly projected his curiosity, but did not act on it.  He sat there uncharacteristically patient as he waited for the boy to make the first move.

'You promised me you wouldn't use it against me,' Harry said.  He was not angry anymore, but he wanted an explanation.  'But you did anyway.'

Sirius' face held no regret or embarrassment at this statement.  'I know.  I'm not sorry I did it, Harry.  I'd do it again if I had to.  You were panicking, and frankly, you were scaring the shit out of me.  You would have hurt me or yourself if I didn't intervene.  I promised I wouldn't use it to hurt you.  So in a way, my promise still holds.  I'm only sorry you had to see what you did from my end.'

The boy shuddered slightly at the memory of what he saw.  Images of Azkaban horrors flashed before him and he knew it would take a very long time to relieve himself of that extra baggage.  He had also seen the dependency Sirius had for him and it frightened him a little bit.  He had never known the sway he held before and he didn't know if he could deal with its consequences.  Shrugging that away, Harry knew he would deal with it when the time came.  Right now, he had a different kind of problem to deal with.

'Harry, I'm not going to lie to you.  I would like to give the bond a try.  I think it could be good for both of us.  But if you have any fear whatsoever about this then let it be.  We can muffle it so it barely exists like Thomas said.  Over time, it may even go away entirely.'

Reaching his own emerald shimmering hand forward, Harry stepped toward his father.  Sirius stood up and also held out his hand, but did not take his son's.  If Harry wanted this link, he would have to come and get it.  Sirius would do nothing to push it in either direction.

Harry took a deep breath and stared into Sirius' eyes.  There was no danger there.  Only peace, patience, and love.  He would not hurt him.  He was not Javen.  He would never be Javen.  It was all he needed to know.  He took the last few steps separating them and took his father's hand.  A bright teal flame arose from their conjoined hands as the bond flared to life.

'I want to try this,' Harry said into his father's mind.  'I want to trust again.'

Sirius nodded and smiled softly, holding up Harry's flaming green hand as though it fascinated him.  Even through the mind link, he could feel how soft his son's flesh really was.  They were gradually toughening through wand and broomstick use, but it solidified the fact that the boy was just that, a boy.  A boy that had been fighting battles not meant for one so young for so long that Sirius nearly overlooked his age.  He vowed that he would no longer let Harry's strength blind him to his youth again.  Children were meant to be protected and by God Harry would be protected even if it killed his father.  He marveled at his stupidity in this matter before.

'We'll make this work, Harry,' Sirius responded through the link gently, not letting his protective thoughts trickle into the bond.  It would only ruffle the independent boy's feathers.  'We'll be a family again.  You don't have to be afraid anymore.'  He let reassurance filter through their bond and fill Harry with his confidence.  'I won't let this bond be what it once was to you.  No more fear, Harry.  Never any more fear.'

A sudden jar threw the two out of their meditation.  Stan Shunpike had shaken Sirius to inform him that they had arrived at their destination.  The Celestial Tsunami lay before the parked bus in waiting for her two masters to approach.  Trying to get his grip on reality quickly, Sirius stood shakily and helped Harry rise.  The boy offered a quick smile in thanks as they departed the Knight Bus.

Similar to the first time faced with the Manticore's Den, Sirius marveled at the sudden gleeful look on his son's face as he appraised their new dwelling.  It had a slight oriental feel to it with a Japanese garden complete with pond, and not a swamp, in the front yard.

"This is it?" asked Harry.  Sirius nodded, amusement glowing in his eyes.

"I bought it last fall after you left."  Harry smiled at him and approached the blue house.

"It's perfect.  Even better than the Manticore's Den."

"I'm glad you think so, young master," came a soft, but resounding voice.  The boy spun around and found himself face to face with a large blue oriental dragon.  Its head was level with his and the end half of it was still submerged in the pond that looked far too small for it.

"Harry, this is Lemures, the surprise I was telling you about.  He is the guardian of the house," Sirius introduced, feeling the astonishment coming from his son's end of the link.

"Like the stone angel?" Harry asked quietly, feeling not a little nervous about the 40 foot creature not 2 feet away from him.

"Much better than any stone angel," snorted the dragon in indignation.  "You will find, young master, that I am a worthy enough protector."

"I… uh… alright," Harry stammered backing up.  Sirius chuckled softly and patted the dragon's maned head in a friendly manner.

"Just give him some time, Lemures," he said looking into the great golden eyes.  "The last dragon he came in contact with tried to eat him."  The dragon nodded and, with a bow of the head to Harry and Sirius, backed away in the pond once more.  It disappeared completely so that there was no trace of Lemures anywhere.

"I thought dragons were… well…"

"Mere animals?  Usually that's the case.  But Lemures is very old and I hear he was raised by humans since he was a hatchling.  If there is a such thing as a tame dragon, he is a good example.  There is a spell over the pond that makes him the guardian of whoever lives there and now that spell extends to us.  Don't be afraid of him, he's here for your protection.  I pity any Death Eater stupid enough to cross him."

Harry nodded, and with another last glance to the innocent looking pond, followed his father into the house.  His apprehension was lost once more as he entered his new dwelling.  Some of the old furniture had been recovered from the last wreckage and was repaired so that you couldn't tell the difference, including Sirius' overstuffed pouf that Remus liked to sleep in so much.

"You approve then?" Sirius asked.  Harry sent a wave of affirmation through the bond and continued in his exploration.  The boy's eyes stopped their wandering when they came across two things laying so innocently on the coffee table between the couch and pouf.

A tattered photo album, his tattered photo album lay open, its page kept by a small snowglobe laying on top.  He knelt at their side unbelieving that they had survived the attack.  Peering through the album, he noticed that the pictures given to him by Sirius in the Manticore's Den were mostly all there too.  Some looked more worse for wear than others, some missing completely, but most were there in relatively wonderful shape.  A picture that included only the four Marauders came to life as the four boys waved at him enthusiastically, Sirius and James vying for the most attention while Peter and Remus sat back laughing.  He smiled back, eyes misting over as he wiggled his fingers back in return.

"I'd hoped you wouldn't mind me putting them in the album Hagrid gave you," Sirius said from behind him.

"No," Harry whispered back, "I'm just so glad that so many made it out alright.  And the snowglobe too… I thought for sure it would have been destroyed this time."  The five animals were there like always, romping in the snow as they always had and as they always would.  Even the small sparrow flitted through the stag's antlers as she teased the chasing wolf.

"Some things can't be destroyed so easily," was all Sirius said before moving to sit in his pouf.  As though on cue, chimes rang throughout the house like a thousand tiny bells.  "Someone's at the door," Sirius explained as he moved to open it.  Harry turned around curiously and was shocked to find Professor McGonnagall standing there so calmly.

"Are you ready yet, Harry?  Sirius?  We cannot possibly wait forever," she said disapprovingly.  Through her stern façade, Harry thought he saw a slight sparkle in her eye as she looked at him.  Whatever it was, it was quickly hidden again.

"Ready?  Ready for what?" asked Harry joining his father at the door.

"Why for your Rebirthing Ceremony," she sighed as though it were obvious.  Sirius smiled at the puzzled look on the boy's face.

"You didn't think we'd let you stay banished, did you?  You need your wand, your school supplies, and I daresay you'll want your Firebolt back too."

"Really?  I can be a wizard again?" his emerald eyes lit up as he thought of rejoining the world he felt so lost without.

"We did consider letting you remain in this house until you were old enough to make a living in the Muggle world, but Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley threatened to drop out as well," replied the aging professor dryly, but they could hear the humor in her voice.  "And I fear losing 3 promising students in one year would severely hurt the reputation of the school."  She turned back to Sirius as a smirk threatened to escape at the sight of her student's elated face.  "We expect you within the hour.  Try not to keep us waiting too long."  With that, she turned and walked to the sidewalk where she promptly disapparated.

"I thought they snapped my wand.  Are they giving me a new one?" asked Harry as they prepared to leave as well.  Sirius shook his head.

"That wand they snapped was just for show.  Symbolism if you will.  They kept your real wand in storage until they could decide what to do about it.  Mr. Ollivander cleaned it up for you and purged it of Wormtail and Javen's ruddy spells.  It's as good as new."

"What about school?" they made their way to the storage shed where Sirius' beloved motorcycle waited.  "Will they let me go back?"

"You can return as soon as you feel you are ready.  Dumbledore already spoke to the students.  He didn't tell them everything, obviously, just that you were proven innocent and that they were not to ever bother you about it.  He wants you back soon so you won't have to repeat the year."  It was already mid-November and Harry knew he had a lot of catching up to do.  Sirius caught up on that thought through the link and chuckled.  "Oh I don't think you'll have too much trouble catching up.  He's having Remus tutor you while he fills for Professor Anton.  The OWL's will be fine, so don't worry."

The ride to the school was filled with comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional joke Sirius told through the bond to keep spirits up.  The engine coupled with the blowing wind was too loud to use regular voices, so he chose to get used to his new link through humor.  As the view of the great looming castle rose over the horizon, Harry used his end of the bond for the first time that ride.

'Dad?' he asked tentatively, losing the humor he had found in the joke about the dragon and the walrus.  Sirius could sense this, and resisted the urge to look back at his son.

'Yeah?' he asked.

'If, um… If you had known ahead of time… that… that all this would happen.  Y'know, with Wormtail and my parents and… Javen last summer and with the whole trial thing a month ago… would you have… I mean …'

Sirius sighed in relief as Harry managed to choke out the gist of his question.  He had been afraid it would be something worth worrying over.  Sending peace along the bond to the nervous boy, he smiled to himself.  He squeezed his son's hands that were wrapped around his waist.

'Yes, Harry.  If I had known about all that from the start, I'd have still loved you from the day you were born.'

FINIS

(Finally!  I might add)

I Would've Loved You Anyway

Trish Yearwood
    
    If I'd a-known the way that this would end
    
    If I'd a-read the last page first
    
    If I'd a-had the strength to walk away
    
    If I'd a-known how this would hurt
    
    I would've loved you anyway
    
    I'd do it all the same
    
    Not a second I would change
    
    Not a touch that I would trade
    
    Had I known my heart would break
    
    I'd a-loved you anyway
    
    It's bittersweet to look back now
    
    At mem'ries withered on the vine
    
    But just to hold you close to me
    
    For a moment in time
    
    I would've loved you anyway
    
    I'd do it all the same
    
    Not a second I would change
    
    Not a touch that I would trade
    
    Had I known my heart would break
    
    I'd a-loved you anyway
    
    And even if I'd seen it coming
    
    You'd still've seen me running
    
    Straight into your arms
    
    I would've loved you anyway
    
    I'd do it all the same
    
    Not a second I would change
    
    Not a touch that I would trade
    
    Had I known my heart would break
    
    I would've loved you anyway
    
    I would've loved you anyway
    
    AN2:  Just so everyone knows… I hate this story.  I really and honestly do.  It has its redeeming qualities I'm sure, but if I didn't love you guys so much, I would trash the whole stupid thing!  Woah, now that I'm done bad mouthing myself, let me explain my absense.  My grandfather was a painter and writer with 4 books out and 4 more on the way.  His name was Ray Lacharite in case anyone is interested in looking him up on Amazon or something.  Anyway, he died in June and since then, I have had little love for writing.  He supported me in everything I did and we wrote story ideas to each other all the time.  I loved him very much and will miss him terribly.  Between that and the controversial Book #5, my muse decided to run away.  Rabbit has agreed to be mine until she returns.  Anyway, I made this chapter twice the normal size because I felt so bad and because I couldn't find a decent place to cut it.  So I hope you enjoyed.  You have been a great audience and I hope to hear from everyone again as I repost SGNG and post new things. Chiao!
    
    Aims80; Well here it is, I hope it doesn't disappoint. Luv Ti ^_^
    
    Kaceyrat: I know and I'm sorry. But this is the end, so no more cliffies for a long time.
    
    Jpalmgren: Think of the link like a drug.  It gives a person access to twice the amount of power.  Soon, your mind becomes dependent on such a thing and it refuses to let go.  The link isn't the problem, it's your own mind that refuses to lose this new source of stability.  But your reasonings, all of them, are very valid.  I hadn't even thought of some of them.  Yeah, Sirius tends to think with his heart a lot of the time.  The same is true for him in the books as well.  Takes after his namesake in most regards in that he burns fiercely and passionately, but the faster it burns, the faster it dies. But I digress.  As the series goes on, you will see them as they deal with the bond.  Right now, it's in their fledgling stage.  They probably didn't decide to do it for all the right reasons, but they have plenty of time to work things out.  Thank you so much for all your input during this story.  I really appreciate it!
    
    A.Dee:  Hehe, thanks.  I'm glad I got all of my emotion across alright.  Yeah, Sirius really is trying.  And try not to get on me too much about Rabbit.  I already love him and should really let him be.  It's funny how the strangest things get attached to you.  If I have my way, you'll be meeting him again.  And you'll also meet his little girl sometime in the future.  Don't worry, no Mary Sueishness.  I don't do the romance thing.  Shipping is bad and even worse when the person has no idea what they're doing.
    
    Atrixo:  Thanks for your support.  As much as I can see where Jpalmgren is coming from, I also tend to agree more with you on those issues.  Sirius is trying really hard.  He's not perfect and he'll be the first to tell you.  But he cares and he really does try.  I was iffy on whether or not to do the link, I was actually losing some sleep over it.  But in the end, I figured it was for the best.  Thanks for your ideas and opinions and I hope to hear more from you in the future.
    
    Englishgirl: Thanks! ^_^
    
    Superman:  Well, it's not up as soon as anyone would like, but it is up.  Enjoy!
    
    Ms. Issues:  Thanks, and I hope you like this one too!
    
    Lanfear1: Huh? *looks back and forth * I'm so confused. *runs and hides away from the scary people *  Hostility is not good!  I'm sorry, Lanfear!  And you too, Samantha!  Ah!
    
    BlackPotterGirl: Hey, Katie! Who, me? Nice? Pfft! Yeah right!  When am I ever nice?  I don't think they can, but let me know how the research goes.
    
    RavenLady:  You got it, girl!  It's halfway done and I'll get to work on it after I'm done posting all of SGNG again.  I hope it's to your liking.  It's not as sad as 'Who Wants to Live Forever' so that should please you.
    
    HermioneG15:  Woah, calm down there, girl. *hands you a wet cloth * maybe you should lie down. I don't think this story is good for your health. Maybe you shouldn't read it anymore… jk ^_^
    
    Frizzy:  You guess correctly.  It was kind of obvious, but I want it to seem believable and not just a rehash of fluff.  I hope you enjoy this chapter too.
    
    Shiozaki:  ^_^ Yes you may.  And I know how you feel about stories like that.  I've done it many a time myself.
    
    Jen:  *sigh * yeah, I know.  I just can't write Ron and Hermione for beans.  I'll try harder next time.  But for now, let's just suspend belief so I can make the small excuse that the fact that they're still in school makes visiting not an option.  It's not a good enough reason, but it's all I got. *sheepish grin *
    
    Christy:  A daunting task for any boy to be sure.  Sirius did say though that he had all the time he needed.  But even then it still seems rushed, doesn't it?
    
    Azntgr01:  Thanks, I think…
    
    Black Panther:  *big hug! *  It's good to hear from you again! I missed you and all your death threats!  No apology necessary.  All is sweet and sunshine!  And hun, if I thought you couldn't write, would I have asked you?  Hmm?  I would like you to consider it, I think we might make a good team and you would definitely keep me pushing things out in good succession so I don't disappear for months on end.  I live in MA in the US of A.  I'm at UMASS college currently, just moved in a while ago.  I don't worry about saying this online since it's virtually impossible for yucky people to find lil ol me in a school of 28,000.  Where are you in the world?
    
    Padfoot10:  I'm sure you knew who it was too.  Enjoy!
    
    Fanfictionfanatic:  Updating quickly?  What is this 'updating quickly'?  No seriously, I had a rough summer with the death of my grandfather who was a published author himself and I haven't felt much like writing much since then.  But I feel better now and can write in quicker succession.  *jumps away from giant fly swatter * Ahhhhhh!  Don't hurt me!
    
    Collyn6:  I hope this makes you happy again. ^_^
    
    Crystal-potter 1:  I know, I hope this sates you.
    
    Madison Black: You live in Boston? Woah, I live like just an hour away from Boston.  I figured to put him there just cause I knew that city the best.  It's a great place, isn't it? ^_^  And I've never seen 8 Mile, so how is Rabbit like that?  And I love him and Bren too. Those lovely Bostonians just grew on me.  I put a little of myself in them and that makes them my babies *cuddles them * uh… hehe… you didn't see that. ^_^  And you know Yanks rule, girl!
    
    Gohan Hugger:  Definitely.  As much as I want to, I'll never abandon a story.
    
    Miss Panther:  Hey, you snuck back in didn't you, Blackie? ^_^  Yeah, # 5 got me down like you wouldn't believe, but that's alright.  I think it was done well and I love how she gushed over him every so often throughout it all.
    
    Wandering Shadow:  No more worries, Wanderer!  Here's the next part!  *hands out some brand name Ti' Tissues. *
    
    Japonica:  Hey hey, stranger! Jk, I remember you!  No, no, don't die!  Here's the last part, I swear!
    
    Good story: The one before this is in the process of being reposted as you are reading this.
    
    Black Potter Grl:  Hey, again!  Yeah, yeah, I know.  I suck.  I'm sorry :_(
    
    Eva Phoenix Potter:  Here it is!
    
    Lauren:  I know and without further ado, I give you the last chapter!


End file.
